DESCRIPTIVE PORTRAITURE 



EUROPE 

IN STORM AND CALM 



TWENTY YEARS' EXPERIENCES AND REMINISCENCES 
OF AN AMERICAN JOURNALIST 



SKETCHES AND RECORDS OF .VOTED EVENTS, CELEBRATED PERSONS AND 

PLACES, NATIONAL AND INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS IN FRAA UN, 

GERMANY, GREAT BRITAIN, HOLLAND, BELGIUM, UISTRIA, 

IIUXGA R J ', K< 1UMA NI. 1 , 77 'RKE I -IN-ECIRl 1PE, 

SWITZERLAND, AXD ITALY 



BY 

EDWARD KING 

AUTHOR OP "TUB GREAT SOUTH," "FRENCH POLITICAL LEADERS," " ECHOHS PROM THE ORIENT. 



ETC., ETC 



O-uer One 77 ,■ Work 

By FELIX RE( 1AMEY, 
And others 
Bl J W] LLS < II WII'M N , Y,-;,. York 



PUBLISHJ l> BY 

C. A. NICHOLS & COMPANY 

SPRINGFIELD, Mass 
1S85 






<\S 












Copyright, 18S5. 
Bx C. A. NICHOLS & CO. 



All right* reserved. 



Arnr. 

ii?, 13, 1929 



->3* 






INTRODUCTION 



IF the courteous reader will lake the trouble to pass in review bis memo- 
ries of 1867 he will probably discover that it was at that period that 
the current of travel from America to Europe assumed large proportions, 
and that a consequent increase of interest in European affairs was felt l>y the 
whole American public. Ep to the completion of the Atlantic cable that 
public had but spasmodic tits of curiosity as to events beyond the seas, and 
it had been so passionately absorbed in the strengthening and asserting of its 
own national life in the midst of the throes of the great civil war, that it 
thought of Europe only as a stately pleasure-ground, filled with ancient 
castles, rivers fringed with picturesque ruins, and sovereigns who disposed, 
pretty much at their will, of the lives of soldiers who occasionally fought 
each other amid much pomp and pageantry. The amateur student, the man 
of letters, the painter, and the millionaire, who had lived for a tew years in 
Madrid, or Paris, or London, seemed to acquire in the eyes of their fellow- 
townsmen, when they returned, an added romantic charm, from the fact 
that they had been to Europe. Conscientious tourists have, perhaps, been 
less numerous and less painstaking in their observation in the past few years 
than in the days before 1830 or l<S4<s, when those who travelled at all 
travelled by packet and by stage-coach, and enlivened the accounts of their 
experiences with many references to their perils on flood and field, and their 
vicissitudes by nights in country inns. But after the cable was hud, and 
the panorama of Europe's events passed under the daily notice of the most 
omnivorous readers in the world, there was an annual rush to Europe, and 
he or she who had not been across seas felt a certain lack in education which 
it was a trifle humiliating to admit. 

It seemed, also, to those who had been to Europe to study the movements 
of its varied populations, or to witness the strange march of its variegated 
history, as if the Old World had entered upon a new process of evolution; 



vi INTRODUCTION. 

whereas it was merely jogging along as before : only now the events which 
had been Imt vaguely heard of, or told of long after they hud transpired, were 
al once recited for the benefit of Americans with a minuteness and attention 
to detail which were not accorded them even in the countries where they took 
place. The cable made the appetite for Old-AVorld news so keen that the 
American public presently found itself better informed as to what was occur- 
ring in Paris - even as to the tittle-tattle of social circles — than about- the 
same class of affairs orsjossip in New York or Philadelphia. Whole colonies 
of newly enriched Americans settled in London, in Paris, in Vienna, and in 
all the cities which, by their historic prestige or by their local charm, 
exercised powerful attraction upon those who had large means at their 
command. The American, with his open purse and genial manners, took 
the place in the respect of the foreign landlord and shopkeeper which was 
so long held by the English nobleman, with his post-chaise and his passion 
for St. Julien. Europe was pleased with its new visitors, flattered at. their 
undisguised delight, and, while it now and then laughed at their easy atti- 
tude and their extreme frankness, it welcomed them as one always wel- 
comes those who bring profit in their train. 

At this same period, when the American had awakened or renewed his 
interest in the parent lands from which his composite nationality had sprung, 
the Old World was entering upon a season of terrible storm, interspersed, it 
is true, with fitful calm, but storm quickly recurrent, violent, and sweeping 
in its results. Europe had apparently settled down, after the wars of 1854- 
55, and of 1859, to uninterrupted enjoyment of the rest which the "party 
of order," in all the Continental countries, had endeavored to inaugurate 
after 1848. 

The era of conferences and expositions seemed almost to indicate! 
the relinquishment of the old policy of plunder, partition, and political 
gambling. Secular enemies protested their future eternity of friendship; 
empires talked of founding themselves upon peace: small nations smiled 
in their fancied security; and the "balance of power'" was still believed 
in even by so clever a man as M. Thiers. 

lhit suddenly the face of the European world was changed. The. great 
movement of unification -the sublime work of this last half of the nine- 
teenth century — was begun in earnest. Out of the sands of Brandenburg 
stepped the uniliers of Germany; Austria lost her foothold in Italy, her 



INTRODUCTION. VII 

supreme influence in the Germanic Stales; Sadowa was fought ; the balance 
of power was almost a forgotten illusion ; the policy of compensation so long 
talked of was scattered to the winds; the military strength of France was 
broken; the English in their insular fortress trembled lest their own pecu- 
liar position might be changed; llie German Emperor was crowned in 
Versailles ; the kingdom of Italy took back: its rightful heritage of Rome ; the 
temporal power of the Pope was broken; the Republic and its attendant 
reforms were declared in France and Spain; and the Powers of the North 
appeared no longer shadowy, but gigantic and imposing real forms, 
asserting with emphasis and might their future supremacy. England. 
with her vast domain scattered through the seas, seemed happily free 
from the entanglements of politics upon the Continent, and found consola- 
tion in the development of her so-called Imperial policy, waiting an early 
opportunity of asserting her equality with these new masters of the 
European situation. The great storm of the war of 1870—71, in which 
the French empire and the last vestiges of monarchy in France disappeared : 
the triumphs and the exactions of the Germans; the swiff uprising to im- 
portance of the Italians, — were things which upset all European calculations. 
The forward movement lor the division into large States — movement so 
long checked by consummate statesmen, — had begun in earnest, and was 
to be carried on with but trifling interruption henceforward. Then came 
the enormous cataclysm of (he Commune, — the final and terrible effort of 
Socialism on the soil of France; after which the gaunt spectre took up her 
northward march, soon to terrify (he Germans, flushed with their victories. 
and the Russians busy with their ambitious plans for conquest in Europe 
and Asia. After this there was a lull, soon succeeded by another storm, — 
the great convulsion out of which were horn new kingdoms, new nations 
in South-Eastern Europe ; and then it was that England, seeing her oppor- 
tunity, — perhaps using it with hesitation and too feebly, yet seeing and 
seizing it, — maintained the place which she might have lost. The ashes 
of national feeling in the scattered States in the South-East, which had 
so long been tributary to the Turk, were fanned into flames. The work 
of revolt was quick and hardy. The sympathy of England Was keen, far- 
reaching, strong. There was a race between Russia and Great Britain for 
mastery and prestige in the Balkan peninsula. The revolution in I he 
Herzegovina and in Bosnia, the successful war in Servia, the exposure of 



VUl INTRODUCTION. 

the outrages in Bulgaria, were followed by the quick descent of a powerful 
army from the North. The great Russo-Turkish war of 1877 was begun; 
and (hen il was seen that the Eastern Question, which bad been so long 
derided as an antique fossil, to be looked at, taken to pieces now and 
again, and relegated to the comfortable obscurity where it was thought to 
belong, was thenceforth a vital, all-important factor in European polities. 
The hand of England was raised to prevent the complete triumph of the 
conquering Russians ; Constantinople was saved from the invader; but both 
those who wished to invade it and those who desired to protect it recognized 
that its fate rnusl soon be sealed. Bulgaria, so long prostrate, rose to a 
principality; Roumania and Servia became kingdoms; Lloumelia, almost a. 
Russian province. Greece sprang to arms, and took Thessaly from the Turks. 
The Emperors of the North already hinted at an alliance with the mysterious 
empire, whose name means the Empire of the East, "Austria Lifelix," — 
one day, perhaps, to be " Fortunate Austria ; " and the Latin Slates, alarmed, 
disgusted, and amazed, felt constrained to spend their enemy upon internal 
reforms and improvements. Beaconstield had shown a bold front at the 
Berlin Congress, but he passed away, and the milder demeanor of Gladstone 
left but little fear in the minds .it' the rulers of the North that their prestige 
would lie wrested from them by any of those alliances once so easily made 
and so easily broken. 

The changes thus achieved in a few short years : the unification of two 
great sets of States in Italy and Germany ; reduction to the second plan, as 
the theatrical architects say, of France and Austria; the placing in doubt of 
the exact status of England in relation to general European affairs; the 
menace conveyed to the small European States like Belgium, Holland, 
Switzerland, and others, which had long fancied themselves secure; the up- 
rising of new States, and the release from barbarous despotism of all South- 
Eastern Europe, soon to be seamed with through lines of rail, and by the 
opening up of its vast resources to exercise new influence on European com- 
merce; the secure and patient progress of Great Britain towards those re- 
forms which to-day even the highest in rank other privileged classes admit 
as necessary and just, — these, with their attendant weight of romantic, 
picturesque, and pathetic occurrences, have tilled full with the wonderful 
and the thrilling a period of half a. generation, some episodes from which the 
author has embodied in his humble book. For, without special assumption 



INTRODUCTION. IX 

of humility, it would ill become him to assume any other motive, in present- 
ing the following pages, than that of reviewing, here amply, there cursorily, — 
now with the confidence horn of personal knowledge, now with the hesita- 
tion which accompanies hearsay, — this splendid succession of events, large 
and little, from 1867 to the present time. 

So he, without further parley, invites the reader to witness with him the 
downfall of the Second French Empire; the pageants of the great Exposi- 
tion ; to look in at a sovereign's palace or an Empress's boudoir; assist at a 
diplomatic intrigue or the production of a famous opera-boufle ; to be a guest 
at a royal wedding or a bull-tight: get under fire at a barricade ; "do" a 
revolution: follow the track of contending armies and be incarcerated as a 
spy; see the declaration of a Republic and the execution of a noted criminal; 
be besieged and besieger: help at the coronation of an Emperor and at the 
flight of an Empress : go through from beginning to end the greatest and 
most sanguinary insurrection of modern times; peep in on busy England, — 
on its sports, its industries, its politics; see a Passion Play; be mobbed at an 
Irish National Land League meeting; go down across the fields and through 
the defiles of Bulgaria to the Balkans; talk of the Sultan and the Emperor 
of Austria : see Bismarck at home ami abroad, on horseback and in his 
study; eat roasted mutton in an insurgent camp with knives which have but 
lately served to kill Turks : and, finally, to take a hasty glance at the great 
colonial game on which all European Powers have entered in the last tew 
years. 

If the reader finds here and there too much of storm, let him turn to the 
pages in which is reflected some little of that serenity and repose for which 
European society is so much to be envied. If he will have it that the verdict 
on certain men who stood high, and dazzled while they stood, is too severe, 
let him reflect thai the author but expresses the opinion which has come to 
he that of the majority in Europe; for there is no doubt that, in the 
future, European majorities will be democratic, non-Imperial, progressive; 
and it cannot be denied that, as in Vienna a new and beautiful capital has 
been built like a ring round an ancient, black, and grimy town, so, spring- 
ing up all round European tradition and formula are the light and bright 
edifices of modern institutions. If Europe fights so much, she does not tight 
in vain. Each period of storm and thunder makes the sky clearer, the 
spectacle on the horizon more impressive, more beautiful. 



PREFATORY NOTE. 



IN this volume the author lias endeavored to embody the results of a 
lengthy term of special correspondence in Europe, during which time 
he has contributed letters and articles upon the political and general sit- 
uation. During a large part of the epoch covered by the narrative in 
this volume, the author enjoyed exceptional opportunities for observing 
the conduct of affairs in the various European countries of which he lias 
ventured to treat, and lias endeavored impartially and faithfully to de- 
scribe events which are among the most important of the century. 

In the task of this portrayal he has been aided by the talent and 
skill of M. Felix Regamey, a distinguished Parisian illustrator, who has 
contributed more than one hundred original sketches to the work; and 
to the pencil of Mr. J. Wells Champney, well known in the artistic 
world. 

It would he impossible in the limits of a single volume to describe, 
even in the simplest fashion, all the great events which have taken place 
in Europe from liSGT to the present time. The author has contented 
himself with embodying in his narrative those with which he was most 
familiar; and he trusts that the public will acquit him of any attempt 
to be either profound or sensational. He has tried to tell a simple storv 
which may afford pleasure and profit to the general reader. 



CONTENTS 



CHAPTER I. 



The Volcanic Shimmer. — Paris in 1867. — The Second Empire at the Height of its Glory. 

— The Crowning of the Edifice. — The Festival of Peace. — The Prophecy of Evil. — 
Napoleon Receives Distinguished Guests. — Attempted Assassination of Alexander 

II. — The Sultan in Paris. — The Luxembourg Panic. — The Hidden Forces at Work, 21 

CHAPTER II. 

The Imperial Court at Compiegne. — An Historic City. — Luxury and Splendor. — Napoleon 
III.'s Courtship. — The Countess of Montijo. — What an Imperial Hunting-Party Cost. 

— Aping the First Empire. — The Imperial Family. — Parvenus and Princes. — The 
Programme of the Season at Compiegne. — How the Guests were Received. — The Im- 
perial Theatre. — What the People Paid for. — Prince Napoleon. — Princess Clothilde, 31 

CHAPTER IIP 

What was the Second Empire? — How was it Created? — The Perjury of the Prince Presi- 
dent. — The Plebiscite. — The Massacres of December. — General Changarnier, and 
his Fidelity to his Country. — The Protest of the Deputies. — Struggle of the Citizens. 

— The Reign of Terror. — The Imperial Eagle. — A Period of Absolute Repression . 40 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Imperial Reforms Come Too Late. — Uprising of the Internationale. — The Com- 
mune Foreshadowed . 4!) 

CHAPTER V. 

Events in Spain. — The Outcropping of Revolution. — R6le of the Internationale. ■ — Brief 
Review of Spanish Politics. — Dona Isabel. — Prim and Serrano. — A Journey 
through the North of Spain. — Biarritz and San Sebastian. — A Wonderful Kail- 
way. — The Approach to the Escurial. — An Impressive Edifice. — Looking at a Dead 
Monarch f>5 

CHAPTER VI. 

In Revolution Time. — Saragossa. — A Quaint Old Spanish City. — The Protest against the 
Reestablishment of Monarchy. — A Vigorous Fight. — The Church of the Virgin 
Del Pilar. — On the Way to Valencia. — Down to the Mediterranean. — Alicante. — The 
Grao. — Getting into Valencia before the Bombardment. — An Adventurous Prome- 
nade. — Crossing the Streets under Fire. — A Barricaded Hotel. — Street Fighting in 
Earnest. — Republicans and Regulars C4 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER VII. 

The Nine Days' Fightin Valencia. — Alamenos and the. Bombardment. — The Insurgents 
and their Tactics. — Departure of the Consuls. — Picturesque and Romantic Episode. 
— An Interrupted Breakfast. — Meeting of the Brothers. —The Endol the Struggle. — 
Scenes iii the Market-place. — In the Cathedral after the Battle. — Castelar and his 
Endeavors for Liberty. — Spanish Politics since 1869. — Spanish Characteristics. — The 
Religious Passion Plays. — The Sublime and the Ridiculous in Religion ... 72 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Ten Years After. — The Kingship Reestablished in Spain. — Going to a Royal Wedding. — 
The French Gate of the Sea. — Marseilles. — Reminiscences of the Pestilence. — 
Napoleon III. and Marseilles. — Barcelona. — The Catalonian People. — From l!ar- 
celona to Valencia. — A Retrospect. -A Spanish Bishop. — Tortosa. — In the 
Beautiful South. — In the Market-place of Valencia. — Out of the World into 
Church 81 



CHAPTER IX. 

Madrid and its Gloom. — The Royal Wedding in 1879. — Queen Christina and King 
Alfonso. — The Puerta del Sol. — The Church of the Atocha. — Memories of Dona 
Isabel. — Royal Rejoicings. — An Interview with Castelar. — Gambetta and Castelar 
Compared ............... 



CHAPTER X. 

The Bull-Fight in Madrid before the King and Queen. — Eight Bulls Slaughtered. — A 
Strange Sport. — Excitement of the Populace. — The Matador. — Duels between 
Men and Beasts 101 



CHAPTER XI. 

The Famous Museum in Madrid. — The Palace of the Cortes. — Noted Tapestries. — A 
Visit to Toledo. — The Spanish Cloak and its Character. — A Fonda. — Beggars. — 
The Grotto of Hercules. — The Alcazar. — In the Ancient Church .... Ill 



CHAPTER XII. 

Dead Celebrities. — Dm Alvaro de Luna and bis Famous Chapel in Toledo. — The Ancient 
Gates. — The Cloister of San Juan de Los Reyes. — Cordova. — The Mezquita. — A 
Relic of the Moors.— The Plain of Seville. —The Girahla. — The Cathedral. — The 
Gardens of the Alcazar. — The Duke of Montpensier 121 



CHAPTER XIII. 

The French Empire in 1869. — Subterranean Throes. — Manifestations. — The Assassina- 
tion of Victor Noir. — Pierre Bonaparte. — The RSle of Rochefort. — Two Hundred 
and Fifty Thousand Workmen singing the .Marseillaise. — The Imperial Press Law, 132 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

The Emperor and his Speeches from the Throne. — Opening Day of the Corps Ligis- 
latif. — The Opposition. — Sketches of the Leading Members. — M.Thiers and his 
Attitude towards the Second Empire. — The Splendor of his Irony. — His Eloquence 
Characterized. — Berryer, Lanjuinais, Jules Simon, and Jules Ferry. — Roehefort 
and his Yellow Gloves ............. I 10 



CHAPTER XV. 

The Epoch of Unification. — Danger to France from the National Growth in Italy and Ger- 
many. — Napoleon III. and his Policy of Greed. — How He was Duped by the 
Northern Powers. — The King of Prussia at Compiegne. — The Coronation March. — 
Bismarck in Paris. — The Luxembourg Affair. — Benedetti and Bismarck. — The 
Downfall of the Policy of Compensation . . . . . . . . .148 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Prcvost-Paradol and his Fatal Error. — A Journalist who Yielded to the Seductions of the 
Empire. — The Work which he had Done against Imperialism. — Danger of Riots in 
1870. — The Execution of Troppmann. — An Experience of the Secret Police. — Gus- 
tavo Flourens. — The Arrest of Roehefort. — Flourens and his Insurrection . . 156 



CHAPTER XVII. 

The Intrigue of Marshal Prim and Bismarck. — The Events which Led to the Declaration 
of War. — The Protest, of M. Thiers. — Personal Reminiscences of the Excitement in 
Paris. — Anecdotes of the Unreadiness of the Second Empire. — General Ducrot and 
his Troubles in Strasbourg. — The < lorruption and Incapacity of the French Quarter- 
master's Department. — No Rations. — No Ammunition ...... 1G5 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Departure of the Emperor for the War. — Volcanic Throes Renewed. — Movements of the 
Internationale. — The German Workingmen's Address. — The Imperial Court at Blois 

— Foreshadowing of the Commune. — M. Rothan's Revelations. — Bismarck and his 
Views of the War. — Alarm of the German People. — Fears of a French Invasion. 

— Emile Ollivier's Account of the Manner in which Hostilities were Decided upon. — 
M. Rothan and the Duke de Gramont. — The French Minister of War is Surprised. — 
Marshal Le Boeuf's Deceptions .174 



CHAPTER XIX. 

The Race for the Rhine. — Von Moltke's Mysterious Journeys before the War. — Captain 
Samuel's Telegram. — The German Advance. — Scenes along the Historic Stream. — 
At Coblentz. — At Mayence. — The Road to Wiesbaden. — The Crown Prince at 
Speyer. — In the Pfalz. — The Bavarian Troops. — Their Appearance. — The Fright 
of the Inhabitants 182 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XX. 



The Spectacle in the Palatinate. — A Visit to Landau. — The Saxon Troops on the March. 
— A Night Drive. — Echoes from Weissenburg. — Through the Glades t" Kaiserslau- 
tern. — Tie- Narrative of Strange Adventures which there befell us. — A Military 
Prison. — Challenging a Denunciator. — Arrested a Second Time .... 190 



CHAPTEE XXI. 

Germersheim. — The Khine lied. — Across the Frontier. — Weissenburg. — ( >n to Woerth. 
— The Disaster to the French. — The German Descent of the Hill under Fire. — 
Charge of General Bonnemain's Cuirassiers.- -'['lie Valley of Hell. — MacMahon's 
Defeat. — The Horrors of the Retreat. — Frossard's Negligence. — Bazaine's Jealousy, 19fi 



CHAPTER XXII. 

The Gnat Battles in fnmt of ami around Metz. — Friederich Karl. — The Saiirbruck 
Affair. — Folly and Incompetence. — The Brandenburg Cavalry. — The Field of 
Rezonville. — Gravelotte. — Saint l'rivat. — .Mars La Tour ..... 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

French and German Rumors. — The Jaumont Quarries. — Truth about this Incident. — 
The Wounded at Frankfort. — Serving in an Extempore Sanitary Corps. — Paris in 
( 'onfusion. — The Spy Scare. — I (angerous to Speak the Truth. — A New Ministry. — 
Comte De Palikao. — Jules Favre's Campaign against the Falling Empire. —The 
Excited Crowds. — The Empire Ends, as it began, in blood ..... 214 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

The Declaration of the Republic. — Exciting Scenes on the Place de la Concorde and the 
Boulevards. — Invasion of the Corps Ligislatif. — Gambetta Pronounces the Down- 
fall of tie' Imperial Family. —The Procession to the Hotel de Ville. —The Flight of 
the Empress ............... 



CHAPTER XXV. 

Sedan. — Tin- March to the Ardennes. — The Headstrong Palikao. — The Crown Prince 
of Saxony's Army. — General De Failly at Beaumont. — The Retreat to Sedan. — 
General De Wimpffen comes upon the Seine. — The Prussians Open Fire in front of 
Sedan. — 1 lisaster to MacMahon. — Slaughtered by Invisible Enemies. — The Battle 
at Bazeilles. — De Wimpffen's Forlorn Hope ........ 241 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

The Quarrel between Ducrot and De Wimpffen. — The Interview with the Conquerors. — 
The Question of Alsatia liaised. — Divergence of < (pinion between Bismarck and Von 
Moltke. — The French Council of War. — Napoleon's Departure from Sedan. — Na- 
poleon as a Prisoner. — Bismarck's Interview with Him. — fiver the Battle-field. — 
Singular Appearance of the 1 lead. — King William on the Field. — His Meeting with 
Napoleon. — The M's in the Bonaparte History 2">1 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

A Solemn Situation. — Return of the Exiles. — The Spoils at the Tuileries. — Advance of 
the Germans. — The Military Strength of the French Capital. — The Sixteenth Siege 
of Paris. — Closing in. — Curious Sights in the Capital. — Gen. Trochu's Review. — 
A Visit to Asnieres. — Prussian Prisoners. — The Fight at Chatillon. — The French 
Retreat. — The Occupation of Versailles. — The Crown Prince of Prussia Visits the 
Old Home of Louis XIV 261 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Enemies Face to Face. Jules Favre ami Bismarck at Ferrieres. — Personal Character- 
istics of the German Chancellor. — His Notions about France. — A Portrait of Him 
by Favre. — His Opinion of Napoleon III. — He Deceived Everybody. — The Crush- 
ing Terms Demanded of France. — The Force of Caricatures. — M. Favre Considers 
his Mission at an End 269 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

The Army of Strasbourg. — General Uhrich and the Fortress which he had to Defend. — 
The Forts. — The ( lathedral. — Fire and Bombardment. — The Tyranny of the Mob. — 
Immense Destruction. — Loss of one of the most Valuable Libraries in the World. — 
German Siege Tactics. — The Spectacle after the Surrender 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Through the Conquered Country. — Strasbourg after its Trial. — Railway Journeys under 
Prussian Military Rule. — Nancy. — The Bavarians. — Epernay. — The Story of 
Pere Jean. — Getting up to Versailles. — The Voices of the Forts .... L's'.t 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

The Period of Hope. — Splendid Improvisation of Defense. — What Paris did under 
Pressure. — The Forts and their Armament. — The Departure of Gambetta in a Bal- 
loon. — Outcroppings of the Commune. — Fights outside the Walls of the Capital. — 
The Defense of Chateaudun. — A Bright Page in French Military Annals. — A Panic 
at Versailles. — Von Moltke saves his Papers. — German Preparations for Defense . .">(>(> 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

The Siege of Metz. — Its Tragedies and its Humors. — Steinmetz the Terrible. — Bazaine's 
Curious Indecision. — The Guerilla Warfare around the Fortress. — The Poisoned 
Wells Legend. — Starving the Citizens. — The Odor of Death. — General Changar- 
nier's Mission 308 



CHAPTER XXXin. 

The Surrender of Metz. — The Suspicious Nature of Bazaine's Negotiations. — The En- 
voy from the Fallen Imperialists. — The Affair of the Flags. — The Prisoners in Front 
of Metz and in Camps in Germany . . . . . . . . . .316 



CO X TENTS. 



CHAPTKU XXXI Y 



The Desperate Battles at Le Bourget. — Remarkable Valor of the French. — Episodes of 
the Defense. — The Charge of the Marines. — Thiers and Bismarck. — The Insurrec- 
tion of the 31st of October. — Brilliant Conduct of Jules Ferry . . . . . 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

Life at Head-quarters. — The Parades on the Place d'Armes. — Von Moltke in Versailles. 
— King William's Daily Labors. — Bismarck's Habits. — The General Staff. — The 
Hotel iles Reservoirs. — A Journey around Besieged Paris. — The Story of Mont 
Valerien. — Maisons Larhtte in War Time. — Getting under Fire. — The French 
and German Pickets. — In the Foremost Investment Lines. — Montmorency. — The 
Fight near Enghien. — Saint Gratien. — The Day before Champigny .... 329 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

The Period of Despair. — The Final Effort. — The Great Sortie. — Champigny. — The 
Fight at Villiers. — Ducrot and his Disaster. — Valorous Conduct of the French. — 
The News of the Defeat of the Loire Army 338 



CHAPTER XXXYII. 

Panoramic View of the German Investment Lines. — Margency. — Gonesse. — Chelles. — 
The Various Corps and their Appearance. — Pictures from Versailles during the Occu- 
pation. — The Snow. — The Landwehrsmen. — The Christmas Festivities . . . :!+7 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

The Point of View. — The Campaign in the South. — The Phantom Mobile. — New Year's 
1 lay. — Scene at the Palace. — The Bombardment of Paris. — Between the Fires. — In 
Front of Fort Issy. — In the Batteries. — Coronation of King William of Prussia as 
Emperor of Germany at Versailles .......... 356 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Bourbaki and Belfort. — The Final Sortie of the French. — Montretout. — The Panic in 

Versailles. — The Treaty for Peace. — The End of the Siege of Paris . . . . 3(i(i 

CHAPTER XL. 

Personal Reminiscences of the Close of the Siege. — The "Neutral Zone." — Wonders 
and Comicalities. -Through the Park at St. Cloud. — The Crown Prince's Redoubt. 
— Starving Parisians. — The Hungry Faces. — A Hundred People following a Hare . 376 

CHAPTER XLI. 

A Great Historic Occasion. — The Assembly at Bordeaux. — Thiers in his New R6le. — A 

Political Tragedy in the Theatre de la Comedie. — The Protest of the Alsatians. — 
The Final Impeachment of the Empire. — A Strange Scene. — Louis Blanc, Victor 
Hugo, and the Other Exiles. — The Votes for Peace. — A Stern Renunciation. — The 
Mayor of Strasbourg Dies of a Broken Heart ........ 384 



CONTEXTS. 



CHAPTER XLII. 

Garibaldi and his Role. — New Italy. — The Upgrowth of her Nationality- — Causes that 
Hindered it and ( onduced to it. — The Influence of Napoleon III. — His Fatal Mistake 
in Counselling the Alliance of Prussia and Italy. — Downfall of the Old French 
Monarchical Policy. — The Hesitation of France. — Occupation of Rome by the Italian 
Government. — The Pontifical Zouaves. ......... 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

The Great Pier between the Mediterranean ami the Adriatic. — Brindisi and Naples. — 
The Revival of Commerce. — Industrial Exhibitions. — Universal Progress. — The 
Struggle between Church and State. — Pius IX. and Victor Emmanuel. — The High 
Priest of European Conservatism. — The " Non Possumns "of the Vatican. — Familiar 
Traits of Victor Emmanuel ............ 40:5 

CHAPTER XLIV. 

The Pope at the Vatican. — The Daily Life of Leo XIII. — Its Picturesque, Spiritual, and 
Political Aspects. — The Continuance of the War between the Vatican and the Quiri- 
nal. — The Aims and Ambitions of the Catholic Party in Italy. — Evolution or Revo- 
lution. — Prophecies of the Catholics. — Unredeemed Italy . . . . . .ill 

CHAPTER XLV. 

The German Paradeon Longchamps. — The Triumphal Entry into Paris. — Shadows of Civil 
War. — Outbreak of " La Commune." — The Greatest Insurrection of Modern Times. 

— Its Cause and its Hopes. — The Assassination of the Generals. — The First Fights. 

— The Manifestation of the " Friends of Order" ....... 42") 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

Decrees of The Commune. — The First Important Battle. — ■ Flourens Loses his Life. — 
Notes on Communal Journalism. — The Burning of the Guillotine. — Great Funerals. 

— An Artillery Duel. — An Astonishing Spectacle ....... 437 

CHAPTER XLVII. 

Pictures of The Commune. — General Cluseret. — The Hostages.— A Visit to the Communal 
Ministry of Public Instruction. — The Armistice. — Touching Incidents of the Fratri- 
cidal Struggle 44:! 

CHAPTER XLVIII. 

Dombrowski in the Saddle. — The Foreign Chiefs of the Commune. — General Cluseret. — 
His Arrest. — Delescluze. — A Despairing Revolutionist. — Rossel. — Bergeret. — The 
Declamatory Period. — The Combat at the Southern Forts. — A Hot Corner Under 
Shell Fire. — The Women of the Commune . ........ 154 

CHAPTER XL1X. 

The Commune Suppresses the Conservative Journals. — Insincere Professions of Liberal- 
ism. ■ — The Pere Ducheue. — The Unroofing of M. Thiers's House. — The Commu- 
nistic Ideal of Society. — Invasion of the Convents. — Reminiscences of Auber the 
Composer. — His Death. — The Fall of the Vendome Column. — The Communists 
Rejoice over the Wreck of Imperial Splendor. — Measures against Social Vices . . 463 



10 CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER L. 

The Narrow Escape from a Reign of Terror. — The Men who Composed the Communal 
Councils. — Tin- Beginning of the End. — The Entering of the Regular Troops. The 
Tocsin. — The Night Alarm 4.2 

CHAPTER LI. 

Street Fighting as a Science. — The Barricades. — A Ruse At Guerre. — Looking down on a 
Battle. — The Burning of the Rue Royale. — The Defence of Montmartre. — Genera! 
Dombrowski's Death 478 

CHAPTER LII. 

A Night of Fires. — The Petroleuses. —The Execution of Women. — Paris in Flames . 486 

CHAPTER LIII. 

The New Fight of The Bastille. —The Hotel de Ville. —The Picturesque and Dramatic 

Episodes of the Great Battles ........... 499 

CHAPTER L1V. 

The Retreat fmm the Chateau d'Eau. — Ruins of the Hotel de Ville. — The Burning of 
Important Papers. — Piquet. — The Third Period of the Great Seven Days' Fight. — 
At the Buttes Chaumont 504 

CHAPTER LV. 

Concessions of M. Thiers. — The Vindictivi ness of the Middle Classes. — Massacre of the 
Prisoners. — English Comments on tin' Seven Hays' Fight. — Last Moments of the 
Insurrectionists. — Testimonies of Eye-witnesses. — Statistics of the Slaughter. — A 
Curious Photograph. — Out of Storm into Calm ........ 512 

CHAPTER LVL 

After Storm, Calm. — Loudou and Paris. — Points of Resemhlance and of Difference. — 

L Ion and Paris Cockneys. — Old London. — Contrasts in Manners, Food and Drink. 

— Sunday in the Two Capitals. — Mutual Respect and Comical Concealment of It 519 

CHAPTER LVII. 

The Germans at Dieppe. — The English Channel. — An Effective Fortification. — The 
"Precious Isle set in the Silver Sea." — The North Sea Coast. — English Seaside 
Resorts. — The White Cliffs of England. — The Great Commercial Highway. — George 
Peabody at Portsmouth ............. "e_'7 

CHAPTER LVIII. 

England's "Silent Highway." — The Sources of her Greatness. — Her Protection of her 
Trade. — Woolwich the Mighty. — Greenwich and its History. — The Procession of 
Commerce. — London's Port. — The Docks and their Revenues. — London Bridge. — 
Dore in London .............. 533 



CONTENTS. II 



CHAFFER I.IX. 



Up River. • — The Historic Thames. — The University Races. — Oxford and Cambridge. — 
The Great Race of 1869. — Harvard vs. ( Ixford. — Putney. — Wimbledon. — Hammer- 
smith. — Mortlake. — Thames Tactics. — A Reminiscence of Charles Dickens. — His 
Powers as an After-Dinner Speaker .......... 539 



CIIAFTER LX. 

Richmond and its Romance. — Richmond Hill. — The " Star and Garter." — The Richmond 
Theatre. —The Thames Valley. — Twickenham. — The Orleans Exiles and their 
English Home. — Strawberry Hill. — Hampton Court. — Wolsey and Cromwell. — The 
Royal Residence. — Windsor and its Origin ........ rAiV 



CHAPTER LXI. 

English Royalty. — The Court. — Memorials of Windsor. — St. George's Chapel. — Tin 
Park at Windsor. — The Royal Palaces. — Drawing-Rooms at Buckingham Palace. - 
Memorials of Buckingham Palace 



CHAPTER I.XII. 

St. James's Palace. — The Story of Kensington. — Its Gardens. — The Charges which 
Royalty Entails. — The Prince of Wales. — An Industrious Heir Apparent. — Marlbo- 
rough House. — -The Title of Prince of Wales. — National Views of Allowances to 
Royal Personages. — Sandringham 



CHAPTER LXIII. 

Fortunes and Incomes of Members of the English Royal Family. — Ancient and Hereditary 
Pensions. — The Invisible Court. — Its Functionaries. — Precedency. — The Aristo- 
cratic Element in the House of Commons 566 



CHAFFER LXIV. 

The Parliament Palace. — History and Tradition. — The New Home of the Plutocrats. — 
The Victoria Tower. — Westminster Hall. — The House of Lords. — Procedure in the 
Hereditary Chamber. — The Force of Inertia. — Parliamentary Calm .... 



CHAPTER LXY. 

The Irish Members. ■ — The House of Commons. — The Speaker. — The Peers and the Cre- 
ation of New Peers. — The Passion for the Possession of Land. — An Active Session. 
— Procedure. — Bringing in Bills .......... 579- 



CHAPTER LXVI. 

The Treasury Whip. — Parliamentary Forms. — Oddities of the House of Commons.— 
Authority of the Speaker. — The Home Rule Members. — Irishmen in London. — 
Anomalies of English Representation. — "Reform." — The Reconstruction of Eon- 
don's Municipal Government ........... 585 



12 aoxTEyrs. 



CI I A ITER LXVTI. 



Pagk 



Tlie Evolution towards Democracy. — Sir Charles Dilke and Mr. Chamberlain. — English 
Directness and Plainness of Speech. — Lord Hartington. — Mr. Labouchere. — Eng- 
lish Sources of Revenue. — The Land Tax. — How it is Evaded. — Free Trade in 
Land. — Taxing the Privileged Classes. — The Coming Struggle .... 591 



CHAPTER LXVIII. 

1'ublic and Popular Speakers. — Spurgeon in his Tabernacle. — The Temperance 
Question. — The Financial Reform League. — Facts for Rich and Poor. — Bradlaugh 
in the Hall of Science — Republican Meeting in Trafalgar Square. — Gladstone at 
a Funeral. — " Oh ! bow Dreadful !" — Public Meetings in England. — The Lord 
Mayor of London. — Banquets at the Mansion-House. — The City Companies. — 
"Lord Mayor's Dav." — The Procession 598 



CHAPTER LXIX. 

" The City." — The Daily Pilgrimage to It. — Exact Limits of the City District. — Demo- 
lition of Temple Bar. — The Griffin. — Fleet Street. — < 'bauccr's Battle in tins Famous 
A venue. — The Newspaper Region. — The Temple. — The Inns. — The Law Students. 

— St. Paul's and its Neighborhood. — The Crypt in St. Paul's. — The Publisher's 
ILumts. — The Bank. — Lombard Street. — Christ's Hospital. — The " Times " . 609 

CHAPTER LXX. 

The Smoke and Dirt of London. — Temperature. — Poor People and Dirty People. — 
Tiie London Season. — What it Is, and What it Means. —The Races. —The Derby. 

— Going I town to Epsom. — The Return. — Goodw I. — Ascot. — The Royal Acade- 
my. — John Millais. — Sir Frederick Leighton. — Music and .Musicians . . . 619 

CHAPTER LXXI. 

Queen's Weather. — The Coaching Meets. — The Flower Shows. — Simplicity of English 
Manners. — Eccentricity and Excellence. — Foreigners and English Society. — The 
London Theatres. — Ellen Ten v. — Mr. Wilson Barrett. — English Comedy Writers. 

— In the Parks. — Rotten How. — Some Noble Houses in London. — A Town of Men. 

— Political Influence. — The Clubs 628 



CHAPTER LXXI1. 

Tlie Strand. — A Historic Avenue. — The City and Country Types. — English Love for 
Nature. — The Farmer anil His Troubles. — Rural Beauty in Warwickshire and 
Derbyshire. — The Shakespeare Festival in 1879. — Stratford. — Birmingham, the 
•Toy Shop of Europe" ............ 635 

CHAPTER LXXI II. 

The Lake Country. — The Home of Poets and Essayists. — Scotland. — Glasgow, its 
Commerce and its Antiquities. — The Great Northern Seaport. — Edinburgh and its 
Memorials. — The Home of Burns «42 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER LXXIY. 

Scotland and Ireland. — The Scotch Highlands. — Scenes of Scott's Stories and Burns's 
Poems. — Balmoral. — Over to Belfast. — The Irish Land League. — Imprisonment 
of Parnell and his Partisans. — The Crimes Act and its Causes. — A Land League 
Mass Meeting. — The Wild and Savage Peasantry ....... 648 

CIIAPTEU LXXV. 

Dublin and its Chief Features. — The Irish Climate. — Trinity College. — The Environs 

of the Irish Capital. — The Great Western Gateways, Queenstown and Liverpool . C.'iS 

CHAPTER LXXVI. 

Lord Beaconsfield. — Mr. Gladstone. — -Two Careers Entirely Different in Character, 
Purpose, and Result. — Personal Description of the two Great Premiers. — Imperial 
Policy. — The Eastern Question in 1S75. — Mr. Gladstone's Attitude. — The Slavs 
of the South. — Servia, Herzegovina, Bosnia, and Montenegro. .... G63 

CHAPTER LXXVII. 

A Day with a Voivoda. — An Insurgent Leader. — Among the Koeks. — A Picturesque 

Experience. — Turk and Slav. — -Ljubibratic and his Men ...... 675 

CHAPTER LXXVIII. 

The Montenegrins. — The Inhabitants of the Black Mountain. — An Uncompleted 
Race. — Among the Rocks. — The Implacable Enemies of the Turks. — A Valiant 
Little Army. — The Montenegrin Women. —The Old Prince-Bishops of Montenegro, 688 

CHAPTER LXXIX. 

Prince Nicholas of Montenegro. — The Outpost of Russia. — The Montenegrin Capital. — 

Battle with the Turks. — Legends of Tsernagora 697 

CHAPTER LXXX. 

Danubian Days. — Hungarians and Slavs. — A Turkish Fortress. — The Footprints of 
Trajan. — Orsova the Fair. — Gypsies. — Animals in the East. — ■ Lower Hungary and 
its Peculiar Features. — Wayside Inns along the Danube. — The Harvesters Coming 
Home at Eventide. — Gypsies at Drenkova. — Through the Iron Gates . . . 702 

CHAPTER LXXX I. 

A Journey through Roumania in War Time. —A Khan. — Its Advantages and Disadvan- 
tages. — Primitive Life of the Villagers. — On the Great Plains. — The Water Wells. 

— The Approaches to Bucharest. — Roumanian Legends. — The Frontier of Europe. 

— French Influence in Roumania. — Bucharest and New Orleans .... 71f, 

CHAPTER LXXXII. 

Notes on Bucharest. — -Streets and Street Types. — The Wallachian Soldiers. — Con- 
scripted Peasantry. — Roumanian Independence. ■ — Priests and Churches . . . 723 



14 CONTENTS. 

Pale 

CHAPTER I.XXXIII. 

The I lardcn of Herestreu. — Gypsy Music. — Roumanian Amusements. — Prince Gorts- 
chakoff at Bucharest. — General tgnatieif. — Roumanian Houses. — Ploiesci. — A 
Funeral in Roumania. — A Bit of History. — A Liberal Constitution. — King Charles. 
— The Upgrowth of Literature ........... 730 

CHAPTER LXXXIV. 

The Early Roumanians — The Language. — Greek Plays. — Agriculture. — The Minor 
Towns of Roumania. — Jassy. • — On the Bessarabian Frontier. — Galatz. — National 
Manners. — .Roumanian Monasteries .......... 7;i'J 



CHAPTER LXXXY. 

With the Russians in Bulgaria. — On the Danube. — Simnitza. — 'The Extemporaneous 
Imperial Head-quarters. — The Early Campaign in Bulgaria. — Singing of the Rus- 
sian Troops. — Sistova. — Bulgarian Men. — The Fanners. — Manners of the Russian 
Army Officers. —The Grand Duke Nicholas. — The Elder Skobeleff. — The Russian 
Emperor in the Field 748 

CHAPTER LXXXVI. 

General Radetzky. — Russians on the March. — Infantry Men. — -Cossacks. — Dragimiroff. 

— In Camp. — Reception of the Liberating Russians by the Bulgarians. ■ — Enthusiasm 
of the Women and Children. — Welcome by the Monks ami Priests. — The Defile 
lie side the Yantra. — The Arrival atTirnova. — Triumphal Procession. — The Grand 
Duke Nicholas in Church. — The Picturesque City on the Yantra. — The t rreek Ladies. 

— Fugitives from Eski Zaghra ........... 756 

CHAPTER LXXXVII. 

Previous Insurrection in Bulgaria. — A Retrospect. — Servia's Aid to Bulgaria. — -Russian 
Agents. — The Triple Alliance. — Rustchuk, its Defence. — -Turkish Transports. — 
The Road to the Balkans. — ( Iain-ova. — Turkish Time. — Bulgarian Schools and 
their Varying Fortunes. — Renegades. — The Passes of the Balkans. — Prince Tser- 
teleff. — The Shipka Pass. —Mount St. Nicholas. — .Suleiman Pasha and Radetzky . 703 



CHAPTER LXXXVII I. 

The Mutilation of the Russian Wounded. — A Convent of Women near (lahrova. and 
Bulgarian Monasteries. — Through the Balkans. — Kezanlik. — Rose Culture and the 
Rose Gardens. — EskiZaghra and the Massacre.- — The Malice of Suleiman Pasha. 
— The Vengeance of the Agas. — The Bulgarian Army. — The National Life of the 
Bulgarians ............... 



CHAPTER LXXXIX. 

Plevna and its Influence on the Russian Campaign. — The Roumanians. — Their Valor 
in the Field. — Osman Pasha. ■ — The Despair of Skobeleff. — Across the Balkans. — 
The Descent upon Constantinople. — Hostility of England to Russian Designs. — 
The Berlin Congress. — Its Result. — The Partition of South-eastern Europe 



CONTENTS. 15 



CHAPTER XC. 



Page 



Munich in its Stony Plain by the Isar. — The Cold Greek Architecture of the Bavarian 
Capital. — The Monarchs of Bavaria. — The Present King Louis. — An Eccentric 
Sovereign. — Wagner and Bayreuth. — Gambrinus in Munich ..... 702 

CHAPTER XCI. 

The Passion-Play at Ober-Ammergau. — The Theatre of the Passion. — Old Miracle 
Plays. — The Chorus at Ober-Ammergau. — Bavarian Wood-carvers as Actors. — 
The Personator of the Saviour. — Caiaphas. — The Figures of Peter and Judas. — 
The Women Interpreters of the Passion. — The Departure from Bethany, and the 
Last Supper. — Comments of a Distinguished American Actor. —The Scourging and 
the Crown of Thorns. — The Despair of Judas. — Effective Portrayal of the Judg- 
ment and Crucifixion. — A Beautiful, Holy, and Noble Dramatic Sketch of the Most 
Wonderful Life and Death 7!)l! 

CHAPTER XCII. 

Vienna, where the East meets the West. — The Emperor of Austria. — His Simple Life. 

— The Slavs and Hungarians. — Berlin and Bismarck. — The Aged German Emperor. 

— Startling Progress of German Industry. — -The Thrones of the North. — Nihilism 
and Socialism. — Colonial Schemes. — .Possible Absorption of the Small Countries 

of Europe „ . . . . . . .812 

CHAPTER XCI II. 

The .Storm of Europe Diverted into Africa. — How Great Britain was Drawn into 
Egyptian Affairs. — The Revolt of Arabi. — Rise of El Malidi. — Gordon to the 
Rescue. — The Long Siege of Khartoum. — Fall of the Soudanese Stronghold and 
Reported Death of Gordon. — The Recall of Wolseley 821 

CHAPTER XCIV. 

The Deatli of Victor Hugo. — The Greatest European Man of Letters since Goethe. — 
Napoleon III. 's Irreconcilable Foe. — -His Obsequies. — The Pantheon Secularized. 

— In State Beneath the Arch of Triumph. — -A Vast Procession. —The Demon- 
stration of the French People . 8.'!<i 

CHAPTER XCV. 

Laborers for Peace. — -The New Territories given to European Powers by the Congo 
Conference. — Impossibility of Permanent Peace.- — Believers in Arbitration. — M. 
De Lesseps and Mr. Stanley. — The United States of Europe. — Victor Hugo's 
Dream. — Republican Sentiment. — The Strengthening of the French Republic. — 
Will Storm and Calm Forever Alternate in Europe? H42 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



The Imperial Family ....... 

Napoleon III.'s Guests in the Champ do Mars Pavilion . 
The French Emperor and Empress at Compiegne ■ 
Episode of the Coup d'Etat ...... 

A Parisian Journalist in Prison ..... 

Proclaiming the Spanish Republic. 

The Escurial, near Madrid ...... 

Fighting at a Barricade in Valencia .... 

Mountaineers Going Home after the Siege 

Wedding of Alfonso XII 

Castelar at Home ........ 

Bull-tight before the King and Queen 

The Bull has the best of it ... . 

Alcazar and Walls of Toledo. 

The Puerta del Sol . . .... 

A Patio in Seville ..... . . 

Beggars at the Cathedral Door 

The Murder of Victor Noir 

Rochefort and the Working-men ridden down 
Gambetta in the Baudin Prosecution .... 

The Speech from the Throne ..... 

Thiers in the Tribune ....... 

The Man of Destiny on the Tuileries Terrace 

Police breaking tip a Republican .Meeting 

Dispersing a Parisian Riot ... . . 

Head-quarters of Napoleon at Chalons .... 

The End of the Empire. Assault by Police on Citizens in t 
The Imperial Police protected by the Republican Guard 
The President of the Corps Legislatif watching the Invasion 
Invasion of the Corps Legislatif, Sept. 4, 1870 
The Flight of the Empress ...... 

Napoleon III. Prisoner at Wilhelmshohe 

French Guard Mobile in the Camp of St. Main- 

Camp of the French Marines at St. Vitry 

Running away from the Siege ..... 

The old and New Regime. Republican National Guard 
perial Guard ........ 

Up the Hill at Villiers 

The Priests' Ambulance Corps at the Battle of Champigny 

Episode in the Siege of Paris. No unite Bread 

The French Troops abandoning the Plateau at Avron . 

Arrest of a Supposed Spy 

The Wall of Buzenval. Episode of the Siege of Pari- . 
Garibaldi at Bordeaux ....... 

Victor Hugo at Bordeaux ...... 



lutin 



ulev 



g the 



rd 1! 



Hem 



if tin 



Im- 



i ' \i.i 

23 

27 

35 

+ 7 

51 

59 

CI 

7:: 

77 

95 

99 

105 

107 

117 

1:':; 

127 

129 

133 

135 

137 

111 

145 

153 

161 

103 

2ii7 

22:1 

227 

231 

233 

237 

259 

268 

301 

303 

339 
343 
344 

:;4.-. 
359 
3fi7 
369 

287 
391 



18 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



The Last Benediction of Pope Pius IX 

Victor Emmanuel and Prince Humbert at the Quirinal . 
Attendants and Officials at the Vatican ..... 
Pope Leo XIII. in his Private Cabinet ..... 
The Pope receives a Visitor ....... 

The Top of Montmartre, where the Communist Ca n were installed 

Funeral of Charles Hugo ........ 

Communist Troops going to the Front ...... 

Thiers and McMahon meeting at Longchamps .... 

Death of Flourens 

The Rue Perronet at Neuilly 

Episode of the Commune. Hon. La Cecilia reviewing his Troops 

Terrace at Meudon, occupied by Versailles Troops 

Communist Funeral at Night . ....... 

Episode of the Commune. The Fallen Cajsar. The Column Vendome 
Fac-simile of a Title-page ....... 

The Prisoners returning from Germany .... 

Children of the Communist Prisoners eating Simp with the Versailles Soldie 
Scene from the Commune. The Barricades of the Kuril'' Rennets 

Burning of the Hotel de Ville 

The Last Placard of the ( 'mi ine ...... 

Sunday Market in Petticoat Lane . . .... 

The Scotch Volunteers al Brighton ...... 

On the Sands al Brighton 

Types of English Lower Classes ....... 

( luardians of the Tom er ........ 

Boat-race on the Thames ........ 

Departure of the Prince of Wale, for India .... 

Interior of the [louse of Commons ...... 

Recent Dynamite Explosions at the House of < 'ommons in London 

Mass-Meeting on Trafalgar Square 

Lord Mayor's Day. Sailors in Procession 

Dinner with the Lord Mayor 

The Thames, from the Top of St. Paul's. Westminstet Palace in the Dista 
Archbishop Manning preaching Temperance .... 

At the Punch ami Judy Show 

Saturday Night in Workman's Quarter 

Salvation Army 

The Queen's < !arriage ........ 

The Queen conferring the Order of Knighthood . 

(in the Road to Epsom 

Fox-hunting in England ....... 

Stopping the Hunting ........ 

Deer-stalking in the Highlands 

\ Land League Mass-Meeting 

A Familiar Irish Scene ........ 

The Western Gateway. The Landing Stage at Liverpool 

Montenegrins on the Watch 

The Russians crossing the Danube in Front of Sistova . 
Hungarian Types ......... 

Roumanian Types ......... 

Bulgarians defending a Mountain Pass 

Episode of the Siege of Ple\ ua 

Signing the Treaty of San Stefano 



Page 

too 

411 
'17 
418 
419 
427 
429 
433 
435 
439 
441 
44:1 
159 
401 
17(1 
471 
489 
to:; 
495 

.Mil 

513 
.",'_':: 
529 
530 

535 
538 
543 
564 



601 
603 

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G18 
620 
021 
024 
02.". 
637 
0.4 7 
655 
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001 
689 
703 
71.. 
701 
77ti 
781 
785 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



lit 



The Berlin Congress 

The Radziwill Palace, in which the Bei 

Constantinople and the Islands 

Palace of the Sultan at Constantinople 

Embarkation of Troops for Egypt . 

Departure of Troops for Egypt 

The End of a Romance. Napoleon II 



in ( longress was he] 



on his Death-bed 



7SS 
789 
790 
830 
833 
S4 7 



PORTRAITS. 



Bismarck I Military) 


IS 70 






- » -• 


Bismarck (Civilian ), 


1884 






276 


Von Moltkc 








331 


Queen of Italy . 








421' 


King of Italy 








423 


Victor Hugo 








:.:;i 


Queen Victoria 








:,:,:: 


Prince of Wales 








561 


Princess of Wales and Family 




563 


Right Hon. John Bri 


jln. M.P. 




r.77 


Joseph Chamberlain , 


M.P. 




593 


Robert Browning 






634 


( reorge Eliot 


. 




641 


Lord Beaconsfield 








665 



Right Hon. W. E. i. 
General Skobeleff 
Emperor of Austria 
Emperor William of 
Emperor of Russia 
El Mahdi . 
Gen. C. G. Gordon 
Lord Wolseley . 
King of Belgium 
Henry M. Stanley 
M. Ferdinand 1 )e Le 
Kin-' of Spain . 
dales Grevy 



riadstone, M !'. 


667 




7;,:. 




S14 


Germany 


sir. 




SIS 


.' .' ! 


825 




83 1 




842 




si:; 


esscps . 


si! 




846 




84'J 



WESTERN EUROPE 

DRA WN AND ENGRA VED 

EXPRESSLY FOR 

EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM." 

SCALE OF STATUTE MILES. 






















WESTERN EUROPE 

DRA WN AND ENGRA VED 
EXPRESSLY FOR 

EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM.' 




MATTHEWS. NORTMHuPi CO., ENGRAVERS A PRINTERS BUFFALO, N.y. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHARTER ONE. 



The Volcanic Shimmer. — Paris in ISnT. — The Second Empire at the Height of its Glory. — The 
"Crowning of the Edifice." — The Festival of Peace. — The "Prophecy of Evil." — Xapolcon 
receives t>istinL, r uishe<l Guests. — Attempted Assassination of Alexander the Second.- The Sultan 
in Paris. — The Luxembourg Panic. — Tin- Hidden Forces .-it Work. 



THE traveller who climbs to the sum- 
mit of Vesuvius on a day when the 
great volcano is apparently at perfect 
rest, and at a period when no manifesta- 
tions of its wrath are expected, will ob- 
serve, as he looks down into the vast 
bowl of the crater, the delicate shimmer 
caused by rising heat. The transparent 
air is tremulous, and although the scene 
upon which the visitor gazes from this 
strange mountain is one of exquisite 
beauty and tranquillity, he cannot restrain 
the feeling of foreboding, as he thinks 
of the tremor in the atmosphere. It is 
the perpetual menace of the hidden forces, 
ready to break forth, overturning all the 
barriers interposed between themselves 
and liberty ; and, in the mad rush of their 
escape, likely to transform the smiling 
landscapes, historic villages, and teem- 
ing cities, into a chaos not unlike the 
primal one. 

In Paris, in 1807, the Second Empire 
had reached the height of its glory and 
renown. From all corners of the world, 
from the most brilliant Oriental capitals, 
from northern cities, from Asia and from 
America, the chiefs of State and the 
celebrities of the moment came to the 



Queen City to offer their tribute of praise 
and admiration, and to join in the cele- 
bration of a festival of peace. To the cas- 
ual observer the beautiful French capital 
in this year of splendor and gayety at fust 
seemed to offer a perfect example of the 
wise results of sound administration and 
willing devotion to the arts of peace; 
but, in looking attentively, day by day. 
upon the scene, it was easy to discover — 
it was impossible in fact not to see — 
the menacing volcanic shimmer, which 
indicated a coming outbreak of forces in, . 
long repressed, too certain to break forth 
in wild disaster. 

The Second Empire in France bad 
passed into a proverb. It was no longer 
the fashion to speak of its creation as 
a crime. The passionate pages of 
Kiug!ake, the stinging denunciations of 
Hugo, were almost considered as partisan 
and ungenerous. The French people 
were condemned, as the punishment for 
their culpable supineuess, day by day to 
hear it said of themselves that they were 
unfit for self-government, ami that the 
Empire hail been for them an unmixed 
blessing. It impresses one now, half a 
generation after these last brilliant 



22 



EUROPE !\ STOR '/ AXD CAL '/ 



moments of the Second Empire, curi- 
ously, to remember thai from the United 
stales came a. greal pari of the moral 
support accorded to Napoleon 111.: 
not only did In' succeed iii grouping 
about him potentates, who, fifteen years 
before, had considered him the mosl 
wretched of parvenus; not only did ho 
invite to liis Court, and instal in 
liis palace of the Tuileries, the Czar 
of all the Russias, and tin' Sultan t<\' 
Tux-key ; but he wooed from the ad- 
miring bosoms of the fair Republi- 
cans of the Wesl a homage which they 
would never have paid to a /n in; nu at 
home. 

At this particular time the Repub- 
licans in France were half inclined to 
lower their bucklers for a while, and to 
pause in their attacks upon the govern- 
ment which they had so lone' detested, 
irresolute as they were in presence of 
the numerous experiments and reforms 
so loudly announced by the Imperial 
agents. The year of the great " Impo- 
sition" was ushered in with a wonderful 

flourish of trumpets by the Imperial 

ministry. It was saiil ami printed, for 
the first time since the CO up d'Mltat, that 
the hour for a cessatiou of repressive 
measures had arrived ; that the long 
period of personal government, rendered 
necessary by the .so-called anarchy of 
L848, had come to an end. The 
"crowning of the edifice," as the 
political jargon of the moment had it, 
was soon to take place. If one could 
lit the assertions of all who were 
interested in the support of the Imperial 
dynasty in France, the one wish of the 
Emperor was to give with liberal hand 
as much freedom to his long-oppressed 
people as they could conveniently digest, 
lie and his were to be the judges of the 
quantities of liberty to be dispensed, 
and they confidently invited the judg- 



ment of Europe upon their wisdom in 
taking oil' some few of the screws. 

Each foreign State vied with the other 
in its endeavors to lie agreeable and 
flattering to the Empire. A Parisian 
was perhaps pardonable at this time for 
his supposition that Paris was the sun 
around which the society of the world 
revolved. Paris fashions, Paris comic 
music, and Parisian bric-a-brac, were 
famous throughout Europe, ami had 
made their way into the remotest 
regions of Asia. Africa, and America, 
ll is true, that when one turned to the 
soberer domains of literature and high 
art, it was found that the French Empire 
had fostered the production of little or 
nothing within them. The great artists 
were not to he found at the Court. 
They were voluntary or involuntary 
exiles. The theatre had become so 
frivolous that it was the scandal of 
Europe, and among the few painters of 
eminence who basked in the Imperial 
sunshine were many who did not hesi- 
tate to satirize, in the most bitter man- 
ner, the reginu under which they lived. 
The social corruption had reached such 
a height that it could be paralleled 
only by the corruption which was no 
longer concealed in politics. Paris was 
tilled with a throng of adventurers, or 
newly enriched people, aristocratic iu 
income, though not in breeding. They 
came from everywhere, and at the first 
whiff of smoke of the war in 1870 they 
disappeared like demons in a pantomime. 
Few of them have returned. They 
seemed to belong to the especial epoch 
which closed with the fall of the Empire ; 
to have had their day as certain (lies 
have theirs, and at its close to have 
finished their existence. 

However various might have been the 
judgments passed upon the Empire and 
the Emperor, there was no variance of 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



23 



opinion as to the Exposition. It was it had really lost by the coup d'Etat ; and 
a grand festival of art and industry, it kept up this policy faithfully until it 
upon which the Imperial party had spent was no longer of any service. 




THE IMPERIAL FAMILY. 



much time and labor. The Empire The Exposition of 1867 was imagined 

thoroughly understood the science of purely as a diversion. In 1865 the 

diversions. It began by giving the Empire had already begun to decline. 

public splendid shows, military reviews, The formidable Republican Opposition 

and the glitter of foreign expeditious, grouped against it as long ago as 1857 

hoping to divert its attention from what had at last become extremely powerful, 



24 EUROPE IN STORM A.VD CALM. 

and in 1864 and 1865 was decidedly in Sehleswig-Holstem, and the brisk and 
aggressive. This opposition was led by astounding campaign which culminated 
politicians of the experience and impor- in the defeat 'if Austria at Sadowa in 
tance of Thiers, Berryer, Lanjuiuais, I860, had one jot shaken French pres- 
Jules Favre, Ernest Picard, Jules Simon, tine; hut Napoleon III. knew better. 
Garnier-Pages, and Pelletau. Gam- lie was wiser than the people whom he 
betta's voice had not yet been heard hail grouped around him. The insin- 
outside the cafes of the Latin Quarter, cere, the corrupt, persisted in their 
or the narrow boundaries of the court- theory that France would only have 
room. Fniile Ollivier was a prominent to put forth an atom of her ancient 
figure in this opposition to the govern- strength to maintain her historic influ- 
ment and the majority in the Chamber, ence and to reduce to their proper pro- 
He, like one or two other politicians port ions the newly arisen pretensions of 
who were Republican in name, listened Prussia. In the loug years of his cap- 
to the specious promises of tin- Impcri- tivity the Emperor had made careful 
alists. ami allowed himself to be won studies in social and political science. 
over to their cause of pretended liberal and he doubtless realized that the time 
reform. Napoleon hail said that '• the had come for the unification of the ho- 
F.mpirc was peace," at the outset of his mogeneous peoples in the numerous 
Imperial career; but he had until this States of Germany. So, too, it is fair 
year's first months been contradicting to suppose that he foresaw Italian 
himself by maintaining, against even unification; and as both these were, 
the opinion of the more enlightened of from the sellish political stand-point, 
his own party, the shattered remnants dangers and menaces to the greatness 
of the French expedition in Mexico, and of Fiance, perhaps he dreamed of sud- 
was daily expecting to hear news of the deuly checking them. lie that as it 
disaster which could no longer be avoided may. the Exposition period was grate- 
there. The immense and cordial wel- fully recognized by all nations as a 
come accorded to the Exhibition when it, breathing-space in a time of storm 
opened, in tin 1 spring of 1867, was a upon which Europe had entered ; and 
veritable godsend to the Empire. It none were more grateful in their recog 
undoubtedly put back the clock of fate nitioii than the Prussians, who had fully 
by many hours. believed that France would not submit 

lint the clock of fate was not to be quietly to the results of Sadowa. 
stopped, nor yet cracked or broken. It So Europeans and Americans alike 

went on with remorseless ••tielc," and il forgot, or wilfully ignored, the volcanic 

was with greater vexation and restless- shimmer, and united in the grand Pes- 

ness than he had manifested at any tival of pleasure, feasting the senses. 

previous time in his career that the and most of all the attention, upon the 

Emperor began his large and splendid wonders spread before them in the most 

series of festivals. He had been from beautiful capital of the Western World, 

his youth too acute an observer of polit- The Imperial commission which directed 

ical indications not to have perceived the Exhibition did its work with skill and 

thai the position of France in Europe energy, and tilled the Champ de Mars 

had greatly changed. It was the fash- with a grand epitome of European 

ion at his Court to deny that the events material progress. It was remarked 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



25 



that Germany had but little of an indus- 
trial character to show, and the sprightly 
chroniclers for the small journals of the 
boulevard expended their wit upon the 
mammoth cannon which filled the Ger- 
man section of the Exhibition Palace, 
little realizing that a few years after- 
wards similar cannon would frown upon 
Paris from the hills environing her. In 
order and arrangement the Exhibition 
was perhaps superior to any of its 
successors, not excepting the mammoth 
one held in Philadelphia in 1876. 

The international craze was just begin- 
ning in 1867. The current of travel 
from America had already begun, and 
European prices had not yet assumed that 
vertiginous upward course which they 
have latterly taken and maintained. 
The trans-Atlantic stranger, with his 
new fortune, found Paris the paradise 
of cheapness and luxury. Rich Rus- 
sians, innumerable Germans of medium 
fortune, Turks and Austriaus, Greeks 
and Hebrews. Scandinavians and Anglo- 
Saxons, nightly thronged the newly 
ornamented boulevards. Such crowds 
have never been seen in Paris since. 
In those days the electric light was 
in its infancy, and few large cities 
had had the courage to make experi- 
ments with it. But Imperial Paris took 
it, vised it generously, and perhaps 
hoped that the volcanic shimmer would 
be less perceptible beneath its artificial 
glare. The pageants of the Exhibition 
were very numerous, and some of them 
will be famous in history. Paris was 
filled with crack troops, well drilled, 
well dressed, proud of the duties con- 
stantly given them, and with their 
national vanity yet untarnished by any 
of those sad reverses which they were 
called to suffer a little later. The Im- 
perial Court was at Comptegne, but 
Napoleon first received his royal guests 



at the Tuileries. As these guests ar- 
rived one by one, they were welcomed 
with all the splendors befitting their 
exalted stations. The liberal journals, 
which had indulged in sinister prophe- 
cies that the parvenu Emperor could not 
bring to his side the legitimate sover- 
eigns of Europe, gracefully acknowl- 
edged their error, and joined in the 
general enthusiasm. Napoleon affected 
a slightly democratic demeanor, while 
carefully maintaining with relation to 
his guests all the etiquette to which they 
attached so much importance, and of 
which the Empress Eugenie was always 
such a passionate devotee. 

No doubt the visit of the Emperor 
Alexander II. of Russia would have in 
less dangerous times been productive of 
a certain current of opinion in France 
favorable to the maintenance of the Em- 
pire there. The spectacle of the Czar of 
all the Russias riding in the same car- 
riage with Napoleon III., and accepting 
his hospitality, was not without its weight. 
It seemed as if the man who had so 
long been called an adventurer had at 
last enrolled himself in the society to 
which he had always desired to belong. 

Alexander II. of Russia had just en- 
tered upon his repressive policy in Poland 
when he made his visit to Paris, and he 
was perhaps a little surprised, on arriv- 
ing in the court-yard of the Tuileries, to 
be saluted with a sonorous '■'■Vive la 
Pologne, Monsieur!" which came from 
the lips of that stanch republican Mon- 
sieur Floquct. who subsequently became 
one of the chief municipal authorities of 
the French capital. In February of 
1867 the Russian Emperor had sup- 
pressed the Polish Council of State, and 
had given the public instruction of the 
country into the hands of Russian authori- 
ties. This was preliminary to the great 
measure which he took in 1868, when by 



1'li EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

an ukase be suppressed the Kingdom of now ami then seriously embarrassing 

Poland, ami forbade Polish ladies ami innocent strangers, whose notions of 

gentlemen to wear their national cos- free speech were brought from a less 

tumes. Infinite precautions were taken exhausted atmosphere. If two people 

by the authorities of the French Empire began a discussion on the street Hie 

against any attempts upon the lives of third man who was sure to come up a.nd 

the visiting sovereigns; but the legions listen was either a sert/ent tl< ville, as the 

of police which swarmed in the city policemen were called in those days, or 

were not sufficient to protect the Czar was a private detective. Any group of 

Alexander from an attempted assassina- three, four, or live persons, standing to 

tion. I chanced to he close to the Im- discuss ami appearing to he deeply in- 

perial carriage when the fanatic Here- terested in conversation in any street 

zowski, on the day of the review of the d -way of public building or in a square, 

9th of June in the Bois de Boulogne, fired was immediately requested to "move 
a pistol at Alexander's head. There was on." Any refusal to obey would have 
an immense press of people returning been followed by arrest, and any offence 
from the review, and much crowding and against the Imperial notions of order 
confusion were caused by the sudden was qualified as criminal. 
arrival of a great body of cavalry which The would-be assassin of the Emperor 
was making its way at a vigorous trot out of Bussia was insane with passion, or he 
of the wood. In common with thou- would not have dreamed of attempting 
sands of others I was pressed forward the life of a sovereign in a town so tilled 
to the main avenue, along which the Em- with private spies and police-officers as 
peror of liussia was just returning. I Paris. The Sultan of Turkey, Abdul 
heard a pistol shot, and then an im- Aziz, who afterwards had so tragic an 
mense "Ah!" such as only a. Latin end, was highly gratified at the mas- 
crowd can utter; and next, much to my telly manner in which he was surrounded 
surprise, I saw the carriage filled with by a net-work of spies from the moment 
ugly-looking fellows in black clothes, who of his arrival to that of his departure. 
were doubtless the police agents, with lie was the most apprehensive, timid 
which the crowds were plentifully infer- creature that I remember ever to have 

spersed. seen ill public. ( )n one occasion lie was 

There was no time during the clos- taken through the principal streets in one 

ing days of the Second Empire when of the ^reat gala carriages of the time of 

one could feel that in a miscellaneous Louis XIV., and his carriage was sur- 

assembly of a, dozen persons, unless rounded in the line Royale by a crowd 

it was by invitation in a private par- which was quite crazy with curiosity, 

lor, there would not be one or two The Sultan sat cowering in a corner of 

police spies. These spies were found this antique vehicle, sweltering in his 

everywhere. They infested the cafes, heavy European uniform, loaded down 

They offered for sale opera-classes and with gold ami silver decorations, ami 

trifling trinkets, and peered impertinently looking very much more like a criminal 

into travellers' faces. They assumed who had been detected than like the de- 

every conceivable disguise, and fre- fender of the faithful and the successor 

quently made report on matters which of Soliman the Magnificent. 

were not of the slightest consequence, Among the guests of note who came 



EUROPE IN STORM ANT) CALM. 



27 



.-;■ ' 







NAPOLEON III.'S GUESTS IN" THE CHAMP DE MAHS PAVILION. 



28 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CAL I/. 



to Paris in this gala year were two elderly 
gentlemen of sober mien, who attracted 
more attention than the Czar or the Sul- 
tan, and whose visit was of more vital 
significance than that of the above-men- 
tioned potentates. These two person- 
ages were King William of Prussia, and 
Bismarck, who had left behind him in 
Paris years ago, when he had been sta- 
tioned there as a diplomat, the reputation 
<>!' a brilliant wit and a cynical and gen- 
erally successful wile-puller. The Pari- 
sian rabble made fun of the shining 
helmet and the white coat which Bismarck 
wore when he mounted his steed to 
attend the review at Longchamps, and 
many pleasantries were indulged in at 
the expense of the venerable Prussian 
king. But the intelligent and cultivated 
classes were careful to make no jokes 
about the Prussians, and Improved to 
the utmost their opportunities of cul- 
tivating pleasant relations with them. 
Napoleon and his followers had an 
unbounded confidence in their ability 
to arrange matters. They fancied that, 
with the prestige of the First Empire be- 
hind it, the Second could manage to 
overawe aggression, even though it might 
not possess the force suddenly to repel 
it. King William and Bismarck were 
carefully entertained at Compiegne, and 

listened with feigned if not with leal in- 
terest to the many political combinations 
either proposed to them, or hinted at in 
their presence. The Prussians would 
certainly have been exacting had they 
not approved of the policy of the Im- 
perial party in France, for it was feeble 
enough directly to serve their interests. 
" France," says M. Simon, •■ as a neces- 
sary consequence of the prodigious in- 
crease of power in Prussia, consequent on 
her victory at Sadowa, stepped down 
from the first rank into the second. 
Napoleon had made a fatal error in at- 



tempting to observe the policy set forth 
in the speech in which he abandoned 
Austria to her fate. He said, • With 
regard to Germany my intention is 
henceforth to observe a policy of neu- 
trality which, without hindering us now 
and then from expressing our sympathies 
or our regrets, leaves us strangers to ques- 
tions in which our interests are not di- 
rectly engaged.' " M. Thiers pointed out. 
in 18GG, the danger of this indifference 
which the Empire desired to manifest. 
He said thai it was to be feared that 
German}' would profit by it. Benedetti, 
tin' ambassador to Berlin, who afterwards 
became so notorious, at the time of the 
declaration of war in 1870, wrote to his 
government that in 1866 the simple 
manifestation of French sympathies 
would have completely checked the prog- 
ress of Bismarck and enabled Austria 
to escape the humiliation which she was 
called on to suffer shortly afterwards. 
M. Simon and many other impartial 
writers on the Imperial policy express 
their opinion that Napoleon III. allowed 
Prussia l.o aggrandize herself because he 
hoped to be paid in kind. He had am- 
bitious notions as to Rhenish provinces 
and to Belgium which were never des- 
tined tO be realized. 

The hidden forces in the volcanic 
bosom gave one ominous rumble in 1867. 
The Empire had just been obliged to 
announce the disastrous end of the Mex- 
ican expedition. It did not care to 
enter into a struggle with the United 
States, which at that moment had upon 
the Mexican frontier an army large 
enough to cope with any force that 
France could muster. In presence of 
the Mexican failure, and under [ires- 
sure of the keen criticisms which the 
directors of French policy received for 
the danger in which they had left Maxi- 
milian, Napoleon III. looked desperately 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



29 



about him for some new project likely 
to be popular, and was led, almost be- 
fore he knew it. into imminent danger 
of war with flushed and victorious Ger- 
many. He had again begun his cam- 
paign in favor of the annexation of 
Belgium, and was secretly working- it 
out before the early summer of 18G7. 
It was. I fancy, during the visit of the 
numerous sovereigns that lie at last got 
full light on the question of a rectifica- 
tion of French frontiers along the Rhine. 
He found that this was impossible in a 
pacific manner, and mi he began negotia- 
tions with the King of Holland, who 
was the Grand Duke of the Duchy of 
Luxembourg, to obtain from him for a 
fixed (nice the cession of that duchy. 
This was speedily noised abroad, and 
created the most intense excitement in 
Germany, especially in Prussia. There 
was a veritable alarm throughout France 
anil Germany. For twenty days it 
seemed as if the year of peace festivals 
might lie interrupted by a long and 
bloody war. To-day it seems impossible 
that the French Empire should not have 
learned, from the manner in which it was 
treated by Germany on that occasion, its 
own weakness, and the poor opinion 
that its antagonists had of it. But so 
much pains had been taken to prevent 
anything like free discussions in the 
Chambers that the truth did not come to 
the surface, and the public was informed 
by the Minister of Public Affairs that 
the King of Holland, as Grand Duke of 
Luxembourg, and not the Imperial gov- 
ernment of France, had raised the Lux- 
embourg question, and that the Duchy 
would not he ceded to Fiance, because 
of conditions which seemed unlikely to 
lie fulfilled. As a clever French writer 
has said, the public learned, from the 
reading of debates on the question in 
foreign parliaments, that the French 



nation was not to have a war with Ger- 
many simply because it was not to get 
the Luxembourg Duchy. When this hope 
vanished in smoke Napoleon III. must 
have been convinced that he would get 
nothing in exchange for his abstention 
from interference with Prussia in carry- 
ing out her elaborate scheme for her 
aggrandizement of united Germany. 

When the Luxembourg excitement had 
died away, and the news of Maximil- 
ian's execution at Queretaro had ar- 
rived, the Imperial party did not make 
any new professions of a desire to accord 
liberties to the people. But the round 
of festivities went on. The Exposition 
was like a great international city where 
all that was brightest and most beautiful 
from fifty different countries met daily. 
There were French, and Anglo-Saxon, 
and Dutch, and Viennese, and North 
German, and Spanish, and Danish, and 
Swedish and Russian restaurants, and 
English liars. There were parks filled 
with imitations of Oriental palaces. 
Chinese pavilions, Turkish bazaars, and, 
in rather incongruous juxtaposition, Ba- 
varian breweries. There wire noble 
galleries of the history of labor ; line 
collections of works of art; a grand ex- 
hibit of machinery and of materials 
suitable for application to the liberal 
arts ; and there was a great park divided 
into four quarters, the French and Bel- 
gian. German, English, and Oriental. 
Here were German and Scandinavian 
houses. Russian cabins, and Cossack 
tents. Greek churches and Turkish 
mosques. Indian pagodas and Siamese 
palaces, and buildings tilled with models 
of everything from the Roman cata- 
combs to the sanitary collections of 
the American civil war. By night, in 
the soft summer climate of northern 
France, a visit to the Exhibition was 
like a trip to fairy-land. The music of 



EL'UOI'E IX STORM A\/> CALM. 



Strauss and Gmigl filled the air. There were anxious to throw off. He forgot, 

was everything which could charm the amid the varied enchantments of Paris, 

eve, and the visitor who journeyed in contemplating the vast municipal im- 

horneward alouu tlie silent streets of provements, in reading the annouuce- 

tlie capital late at night after a prome- meuts of the opening of new parks and 

uade through the Exhibition found it gardens, and the schemes for an im- 

diilii-ult to peisuaile himself that he was proved condition of the working-class, 

living miller a despotic government, — he forgot the volcanic shimmer. 

and one which the people of tli mulry 



EUROPE AV STORM AND CALM. 



31 



CHAPTER TWO. 



The Imperial Court at Compiegne. — An Historic City. — Luxury ami Splendor. Napoleon III.'s 
Courtship. — The Countess of Montijo. — What an Imperial Hunting-Party Cost. — Aping the 
First Empire. — The Imperial Family. — Parvenus and Princes. — The Programme of the Season 
at Compiegne. — How the Guests were Received. — The Imperial Theatre. — "What the People 
Paid lor. — Prince Napoleon. Princess Clothilde. 



IN this splendid year, Compiegne, as 
well as Paris, was at the height of 
its magnificence. Compiegne might til- 
most have been called a second French 
capital, for from the early days of tin- 
Second Empire it had been the favorite 
resort of the adroit and brilliant Empress, 
and it was there that many of the events 
most important in the history of the Em- 
pire had their origin. The pretty and 
interesting old town, on the borders of 
the noble wood, had for many centuries 
been a favorite resort lor French sov- 
ereigns. The local historians even say 
that it won the affection of Clovis ; but. 
without going back so tar as this ancient 
sovereign, we find in French history 
plenty of romance, tragedy, and comedy 
connected with Compiegne. The valor 
of the inhabitants of the town decided 
the victory of Bovines, which is one of 
the most glorious in French annals. The 
"Maiden's Tower." a part of the ruin of 
the Porte du Yieux Pont, commemorates 
the heroic maid of Oilcans, who was 
taken near that place, in Compiegne, on 
the 24th of May. 1430. There is tin in- 
scription, scarcely complimentary to the 
English, on this door, and in it occur-, 
the famous line so often quoted by French 
editors when they have found the policy 
of France antagonized by England, — 



Joan of Arc was taken by tin archer 
of Picardy, disarmed and carried to the 
head-quarters of Magny, where she was 
literally sold at auction. She was tit 
hist bought by John of Luxembourg, 
who sold her t.. the English for 10,000 
livres (francs) cash, and a pension of 
300 livres. Compiegne is also full of 
memories of La Yalliere, Madame De 
Montespau, and Louis the Well-Beloved, 
who had a nest for his famous Pompa- 
dour in the shades of the park. The 
petit chQteau, as it was called, where the 

Pompadour lived, was demolished at the 

ti «l' tin- great revolution. 

Napoleon I. was very fond of Com- 



piegne, and in the IV 



if his devo- 



Tous ceux-la d'Albion 
jamais." 



n'ont fait le bien 



tion to Maria Louisa c structed there 

the famous " Cradle," copied from that 
of the park at Schoenbrunu. In Louis 
Philippe's day the Court occasionally 
had its seasons of gayety tit Compiegne, 
and reviews were held there, at which 
the young princes, who had been so 
prominent in the conquest of Algeria, 
inspected the troops. It is said that 
Louis Philippe used to drive out to the 
reviews in a huge carryall with a four- 
in-hand, which he was very fond of man- 
aging. At his side was the buy who 
is to-day the Comte De Paris, and some- 
times the Queen and the young Duchess 
de Montpensier accompanied him. The 
old King used to drive down the line of 
troops, saluted by cheers. The last of 



:\-J EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 

these reviews at Compiegne was held in legitimate leader of French society. This 
1847. Nothing was more picturesque lady, who played such an important part 
than the multitude of tents, of booths, in the career of Napoleon III.. was. ac- 
of merchants and mountebanks, which cording to the Imperialist authorities, de- 
sprang up under the hills of the forest, scended from two noble families of Spain 
on the days preceding the reviews, and and England. Her father, the Count of 
to which the Parisians flocked by him- Montijo. claimed a long desceul from 
dreds of thousands. For a short time Spanish noblemen, who were celebrated 
after the Revolution of 1848 the forest in the wars and politics of their native 
was opened to the public, and the grocer, land, and among them the Count of 
the butcher, and the candlestick-maker, Telia, who got his nobility at the end of 
popped their guns at the royal stags and the fifteenth century from Ferdinand and 
the scudding hares, which had hereto- Isabella, for the bravery which he dis- 
t'ore been prev for the guns of the no- played before Granada. The mother of 
bility alone. Mdlle. de Montijo was a descendant of 
The chase in France has always been a Scotch family, driven out of Scotland 
an aristocratic amusement. The middle at the fall of the Stuarts, and was the 
class seems to have hut small liking for daughter of an English business-man 
it ; and as the working-people have nev- named Fitz-Patrick, who was lone- Brit- 
er been allowed to keep weapons of their ish Consul in Spain, and who seems to 
own. they have naturally acquired but have laid but little stress upon an aristo- 
small skill in shooting. It was but a cratic lineage. 

little time alter the coup d'Etat that The Countess of Montijo and her 

Napoleon III. made his appearance at daughter were well known in London, 

Compiegne, and began to give hunting- Madrid, and Berlin, where they made 

parties there, which were soon noted lone sojourns before they appeared in 

throughout Europe for their magnificence, France, where their favorite resilience 

for the excellence of the banquets, and was Fontaiuebleau. The beauty of the 

the torch-light, fetes connected with them, daughter was so remarkable that in 

and for the great numbers of beautiful 1850 and 1*.~>1 she was the observed of 

ladies who were gathered at the newly all observers at thefetes of the Elysde. 

established court. Mdlle. Eugenie de At Compiegne she conducted herself 

Montijo, who was soon to become the with great prudence in the midst of a 

Empress of the French, had been very corrupt Court, where she was sur- 

prominent in the organization of the fes- rounded with all kinds of jealousy and 

tivities at the Klysee Palace in Paris, envy; and. when the Emperor came to 

anil society soon remarked that .she was declare his passion, she referred him 

the leading spirit at Compiegne. The with much dignity and sweetness toher 

first hunting-season under the Empire mother, who she feared would never 

brought Mdlle. de Montijo and her moth- consent to the union because of the ex- 

er very often before the French public, alted station of the suitor, and because 

The voung beauty scandalized the chate- she felt that he ought to make a more 

laiues of the neighborhood by galloping brilliant alliance with some one of the 

about with the Emperor at all hours of noble families of Europe. The gossips, 

the day and evening, but no one imag- since the fall of the Empire, say that the 

iued that she was likely to become the Emperor's declaration was brought on 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



33 



by a somewhat comical incident. They 
relate that returning from the chase one 
cvciiing with Millie, de Montijo, the Em- 
peror ventured to present himself at the 
door of her private room and to linger 
there t'or a moment; whereupon he was 
driven out without ceremony, and, the 
story adds, with one or two vigorous 
blows from a riding-whip. This, it was 
said, confirmed his already decided 
opinion as to the unimpeachable virtue 
of the young countess ; and it was not 
long before he talked of marriage. He 
wrote a letter to the mother of the 
adored one, and the good lady, after 
having shown this precious document to 
all her intimate friends, allowed herself 
to be convinced, and the engagement 
was soon announced to the company 
gathered at Compiegne. 

There was a great outpouring of 
scandal as soon as this announcement 
was made. The elder Countess of 
Montijo had the dissatisfaction of see- 
ing her (iast reviewed without mercy, 
and the Legitimists and other factions of 
the monarchical opposition to the new 
Emperor gave full vent to their spleen 
and their satire. The Prince Napoleon 
was naturally very angry, as it put an 
end to the hopes that he had begun to 
cherish of being the legitimate succes- 
sor of Napoleon III. Everywhere the 
coining marriage was alluded to as 
eccentric; and so wise and careful a 
man as M. Thiers even ventured to have 
his little joke at the Emperor's expense. 
He said: "The Emperor has always 
seemed to me to be a clever man. To- 
day I see that he has plenty of fore- 
sight, for by his marriage be is probably 
reserving for himself the rank of a Span- 
ish Grandee." This little pleasantry 
contained a delicate allusion to the inse- 
curity of the Emperor's position. 

I In t Napoleon eared little for these 



cynical remarks. He had some sup- 
porters like M. Dupin, who said boldly 
tli.it the Emperor had done perfectly 
right in engaging himself to marry a 
person who pleased him, and not allow- 
ing himself to be snatched up by some 
German princess with huge feet. When 
Napoleon III. got his council of ministers 
together and announced his projected 
marriage there were numerous objec- 
tions, politely but firmly made. The 
Emperor met them all in the most per- 
emptory fashion, saying, "There are no 
objections to lie made, gentlemen, and 
no discussion is to be begun on this 
matter. The marriage is decided upon, 
and I am decided to carry it out." There 
whs a ripple of laughter in the European 
Courts when the Emperor said, in his 
speech at the Tuileries, in 1853, that the 
union he was about to contract was not 
exactly in accordance with the con- 
ditions of the old traditional policy, but 
that that was its special advantage. 
"France," he said. " had by its succes- 
sive revolutions separated itself from the 
rest of Europe. A sensible government 
ought to try to get it back into the circle 
of the old monarchies ; but that result, 
according to him, would be more certainly 
brought about by a frank and straightfor- 
ward policy, by loyalty in transactions, 
than by royal alliances, which created a 
false sense of security, and substituted 
family for national interests." 

This sounded very brave, and there 
was a little swagger in the following 
phrase, which forced even Napoleon's 
enemies to admit that he at least had 
the courage of his opinions: ■•When, 
standing in full view of ancient Europe, 
one is brought by the force of a new 
principle up to the height of the ancient 
dynasties, it is not by trying to give 
additional age to one's coat of arms, 
or by seeking by enterprise to get into 



34 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

a family of king's, that one makes bis ordered nol to reproduce it. and so the 
position there. It is rather in always public remained in ignorance of the 
remembering one's origin, in preserving Comte de Chambord's protest, 
one's own character, and in taking The Empress seemed to have for her 
frankly with regard to Europe the posi- chief aim the reestablishment of the 
linn of a parvenu, which is a glorious rules of precedence and the Court cos- 
title when one arrives at power by the tumes which had prevailed in the reign 
free suffrage of a greal people." of Marie Antoinette at Versailles. It is 
After the nuptial ceremony, which took even told of her that the Emperor and 
place with great pomp at the Cathedral some of his more serious followers had a 
<>!' Ndtre Dame in Paris, tin- Emperor severe struggle with her on the occasion 
offered to the Duchess de Viceuce ami of a grand fancy ball, which was given 

the Duchess ile Lesparre the highest at the Tuileries, to prevent her from 

places in the household of the Empress ; appearing as a resuscitated Marie An- 

but both these ladies refused to accept loinetle. She flattered herself that .she 

the honors. This was only one of many resembled that unfortunate sovereign, 

mortifications which the Imperial couple and was never weary of talking of her. 

had to suffer for some months after their Without any desire at this late day to 

union. The Duke de Bassauo, who was criticise the society of Compiegne or the 

destined to bo the Emperor's Court chain- Empire, it is difficult to overlook the 

berlain, at first said that he would take fact that the company was decidedly 

good care that his family had no office mixed. A recent writer says on this 

under the Empire. But he was prevailed subject: "At the advent of the Empire 

upon, and the Duchess de Bassano soon all the noted parlors were closed, and 

took high position among the ladies of politics. ;is in our day, sowed discord 

the Empress's suite. After a. time the and disunion everywhere, so that good 

Emperor rallied round him some of the society, whether per force or of its 

members of the old aristocracy. It was choice, yielded place to a new monde, or 

not difficult for him to do this, for he a kind of international demi-monde, 

had the power of making senators, and which had Hocked together from the 

of according to the members of the four cornel's of Europe to be merry at 

Senate sums of 15,000, 20,000, or the Imperial Court. The new society, 

30,000 francs, as he pleased. Dukes, horn of the Empire, was indeed most 

princes, counts, and marquises Hocked strange. In it were found marchion- 

arouml the -'Imperial parvenu," and esses, who were journalists; Italian 

naturally brought their wives and daugh- princesses, who had been singers at 

ters both to the Tuileries and to Com- Alcazars; and, from all countries, great 

piegne. The Comte de Chambord felt ladies with regard to whose marriages 

it his duty to address, from his post of there was something irregular." 

exile, a letter to the Legitimist party, It was the fashion at the close of the 

in which he administered a severe rebuke Empire to say that the Empress was 

to those of his quondam adherents who responsible for a great part of the social 

had allowed themselves to lie seduced demoralization; but this was unjust. 

by the brilliant promises of the Empire. She made vigorous efforts at times to 

But this letter did no good, for the sim- purge the Court of the disreputable 

pie reason that the newspapers were personages who hung upon its out- 



EUROPE J.Y STORM AND CALM. 



35 



skirts, and she was now and then sue- after the opening of the first season at 
cessful. Compiegne that an Empire was a costly 

The French nation discovered shortly luxury. It would be difficult for Repub- 
licans to understand the absolute 
liberty which the Emperor had 
of bestowing money upon his 
favorites, and the license with 
which he lavished the national 
funds upon the amusements of 
!'..■ Court. Marshal Magnan, 
who had taken a vigorous part in 
the coup d'Etat, was made grand 
ceneur, or the Imperial Master of 
the Hounds, with an annual salary 
of 100,000 francs. This was more 
money than Louis XIV. gave to 
Rohan for the same service. Na- 





TUE FRENCH EMI'EROK. AND EMPRESS AT COMPIEGNlfi. 



36 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



poleon treated his favorites with great 
liberality, and this Marshal Magnan, he- 
sides liis office al Conipiegue, had 40,000 
francs as general-in-chief of the army of 
Paris ; 40,000 francs as a marshal of 
France; 30,000 francs as senator; and 
6,000 francs as the perquisites of Ins 
position in the Legion of Honor. Count 
Edgar Ney, who was also a graad officer 
in the Imperial chase, received 40,000 
francs yearly, and aristocratic gentle- 
men whose only labors during the year 
consisted in keeping the packs of hounds 
well furnished, in buying horses in 
England or in Hungary, were paid 

•JO, DIM), 15, or 12. iMIli franc. 

Nearly all these gentlemen were also 
officers in the army, and received sala- 
ries of from 12,000 to 40,000 francs for 
military service. Napoleon gave them 
horses and carriages, free lodgings in all 
the Imperial palaces, and. in fact, so 
heaped honors and splendors upon them 
that they would have been base ingrates 
if they had not fully espoused his cause. 
The officers of sport were supposed to 
pass three months of the year at Ram- 
bouillet, three months at St. Germain, 
three months at Fontainebleau, ami 
three months at Compiegue, in which 
place they were entitled to lodgings in 
the crown buildings, to firing, lighting, 
washing, etc. The grand veneur even 
had a mansion specially rented for him 
i:i Paris, and the expense of this was 
paid by tin' people. 

The Empress spent long mornings in 
designing and adopting costumes for the 
chase. Bottle-green hail been the livery 
adopted by the Imperial Court of Napo- 
leon I. ; ami so bottle-green was adopted 
by the Imperial Court of Napoleon III. 
Hut there were among others magnificent 
costumes rich with red velvet striped 
with gold. Everything was regulated in 
the most careful manner. The Emperor 



and Empress wore white feathers in their 
hats, and no one else at Court was al- 
lowed to do so. A special kind of hunt- 
ing-hat was specified tor certain days, 
and no frequenter of the Court would 
have dared in the smallest detail to vent- 
ure upon originality, as he or she would 
[lave immediately incurred the Empress's 

displeasure. It was considered a great 
favor to he authorized to wear a hunting- 
costume without being a member of the 
hunt ni'iif the Emperor's household. The 
chief officers of the crown, the Court 
chamberlain, the master of horse, the 
gland master of ceremonies, the prefects 
of the police, the special grooms of the 
Emperor and Empress, and the ladies 
of the palace and the ladies of the chief 
dignitaries, were all enrolled in this mas- 
culine and feminine hunting-regiment; 
and he or she who was not a good rider 
had hut little chance at Court. All this 
people, in the midst of their sports and 
fantastic promenades in the leafy ave- 
nues of the forest, almost forgot that 
there was such a city as Paris or a great 
nation of thirty-seven or thirty-eight 
millions of striving and suffering work- 
ers. The Emperor had taken possession 
<>l' France as his particular prize, and 
cared as little for the will of the people 
as for the direction of the wind. 

lint, although he cherished a supreme 
disdain for the public will and for public 
criticism, he was extremely attentive to 
the remarks of foreign Courts, and con- 
stantly made endeavors to attract to 
( 'ompicgne some representatives of Eu- 
ropean royalty and aristocracy. The 
King of Holland, who was a great ad- 
mirer of the Empress, was one .if the 
first sovereigns to come to Compiegne, 
and great was the rejoicing when he ap- 
peared. Afterward- there were numer- 
ous important visits of .sovereigns ; and 
among the most noted were those of Vie- 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



37 



tor Emanuel of Italy, the Emperor of 
Austria, the Emperor of Russia, the King 
of Prussia, and Prince Bismarck in 1867, 
and the King of Portugal. 

It was perhaps at the close of the 
Crimean war that the Compiegnes, as 
they were called, were most brilliant. 
Enormous sums of money were spent at 
that time upon the hunting-parties, and 
Lord Stratford Canning. Lord Palmer- 
ston, and other noted Englishmen, were 
quite dazzled, although accustomed to 
luxury at home, by the Imperial displays. 
It is said that when Lord Palmerston 
visited Compiegne, the daily expenses at 
the Court were 45,000 francs. The Prin- 
cess de Metternich, the interesting and 
original wife of the Austrian ambassador, 
was intimately associated with all the/etes 
and shows of the Imperial Court. .She, 
like the Empress, was foreign to French 
manners ; but she had what the French 
call the diable mi corps, and she was im- 
mensely popular among the jeunesse 
dorie, who moved in the upper circles of 
society. Although the conduct of the 
Empress was never for an instant criti- 
cised during her whole reign, she was 
frequently called upon to witness terri- 
ble scandals at Court. 

Compiegne was the fashion. The 
Emperor and Empress arrived there on 
All-Saints-day and left on the evening 
before the opening of the Chambers in 
Paris. When the Court arrived, a bat- 
talion of infantry of the guards came 
also, and there was music in the clear- 
ings in the forest, and all the villas in 
the neighborhood were filled with rich 
foreigners. On the day of the Empe- 
ror's arrival no one dined at the palace 
with him except the officers of his house- 
hold, who were, as the phrase went, 
" on duty," and the ladies who belonged 
to the train of the Empress. The uiider- 
prefect, the mayor, and all the officers 



of the garrison, went out to meet the 
Emperor when he arrived at the railway 
station ; and the inspectors of forests, 
the game-keepers, and the hundred 
smaller officials, came to pay their re- 
spects in the evening. 

On the next day the guests began to 
arrive. It was the custom of the Court 
to have five series of invited guests, 
numbering about ninety in each series. 
Persons of distinction in literature, or 
science, or politics, on receiving an 
invitation to Compiegne, understood 
that they were invited for four days. 
without counting the day of arrival or 
that of departure. The special honor 
was to be invited on the lath of No- 
vember, because that was St. Eugenie's- 
day, and the Empress's fete. On that 
occasion there was a comedy given by 
amateurs, followed by a grand ball, at 
which all the Court society, and every- 
body, of course, brought costly offerings 
of flowers. The principal functionaries 
of the town and the department, with 
their families, were invited to dinner, 
and the officers of the garrison came in 
a group to offer the Empress a magnifi- 
cent bouquet. 

The Imperial family was quite numer- 
ous, and when the Emperor arrived at 
Compiegne a goodly number of the 
members of his family came with him. 
There was tiie young and pretty Princess 
Anna Murat ; her brother Prince .Joa- 
chim ; the Princess Mathilde, who had at 
first pouted when she had heard of the 
marriage, but who finally grew reconciled 
to it and was later on a very affectionate 
friend of the Empress; and the little 
Prince Imperial. King Jerome and the 
prince, his son, came rarely to Com- 
piegne. They could not endure the 
Empress, who liked them not, and who 
did not conceal her dislike, and who, 
after the lather dubious exploits of Prince 



38 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

Napoleon in the Crimea, marie so much Marshal of the palace alone had the right 

fun of him that he cherished a mortal to put his servants in the Imperial livery. 

haired for her. The Emperor \v:is peri- The public called this the " Rachel 

odically besieged by needy members of Decree." All the ceremonies of the Im- 

his family, — needy because of their ex- perial Court were regulated in the most 

aggerated wants; and many a good story punctilious fashion. Yet a certain free- 

is (olil of the manner in which he evaded dom of manner always betrayed the tact 

undue exactions on the part of his rela- that the Emperor ami Empress had led 

tives. On one occasion Prince Napo- adventurous lives and had not been acens- 

leon asked for such an enormous sum tomed to the atmosphere of courts, dur- 

that the Emperor refused it point-blank, ing the early part of their careers. When 

saj'ing that as he had already given him the beautiful and accomplished Princess 

a capital of 2.300,000 francs a year he Clothilde came, as the wife of Prince 

could do nothing more lor him The Napoleon, to Compi^gue, the Empress 

Prince grew furious, and indulged in Eugenie undertook to give her some slight 

some very strong language, finishing by advice as to her dress and manners. But 

the remark, "There is nothing of the the Princess quietly remarked, ••You 

Emperor about you." — " ( >h, yes, there forget, Madam, that I was born at ( lourl ." 

is," answered Napoleon 111. without which caused a coolness between the 

moving a muscle of his countenance; ladies for some time. 

" there is his family." This story got The amusements offered the guests iu- 

abroad, and was the delight of Paris for vited to Compiegnc were invariably the 

many days. same. On the day of the arrival there 

Prince Napoleon was lone deeply at- was a grand dinner, a charade, little 
taehed to Rachel, the noted actress, games, and a "hop." The next day. 
Their intimacy was quite public, as the after breakfast, there was hunting eithei 
Prince made no mystery of any of his in the reserve park or in the pheasantry. 
liaisons. In 1853 a certain prince, who The Emperor was very fond of shooting- 
very likely was not friendly to the Em- matches, to which only ten or twelve 
press, sent one of his carriages, which gmsts were admitted to the honor of 
was exactly like those used by the Im- partaking this pleasure with him. These 
perial pair, to Rachel, that she might go must be either sovereigns or foreign 
to Longchamps in it. She accepted this princes staying at the palace, princes of 
delicate attention, and the public, recog- the blood, ambassadors, marshals of 
nizing the Imperial livery, took Rachel France, and the ministers, and two or 
for the Empress and hailed her with three officers of the chase. Tin 1 guests 
cheers and obsequious bows. When she who were of small consequence went 
got home the actress said, " It is very hunting in the forest under the guidance 
disagreeable to be taken fortheEmprcss." of a general guard, or shot at birds with 
This pleased Prince Napoleon so much the ladies on the lawn. The Empress 
that he could not help repeating it as was very fond of archery, and had a fas- 
some slight revenge for the many occa- cinating train of beauties who could draw 
sions upon which the Empress had ren- the bow with skill. In the evening after 
dered him ridiculous. the grand hunting-match there was usu- 

After this little incident a decree was ally a play in the palace theatre. The 

published, announcing that the Grand companies of the subsidized theatres of 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CA1 V. 



39 



Paris were expected to perform at least 
once during the season at Compiegnc be- 
fore the Emperor and Empress. It is a 
striking commentary on the taste of the 
Imperial Court that the Palais Royal 
Company was the most popular of all. 
Neither tin- Emperor nor the Empress weir 
fond of music. The theatrical represen- 
tations cost from 20,000 to 40,000 francs 
each. The artists of the Theatre Francais 
were the only ones who were allowed to 
go and salute the Emperor and Empress 
and indulge in a few moments' conversa- 
tion with them after the play. 

The luxury of the Imperial theatre 
was quite remarkable. The Imperial 
box contained one hundred and fifty 
seats, and on each side of it was a gal- 
lery, so called, in which the most beau- 
tiful women of the Court took their 
places. At nine o'clock precisely, on 
the evening of the play, the chief 
chamberlain came into the hnje in 
Court costume, with rapier at side, 
and announced in a loud voice, "The 
Pmiperor!" Then every one arose. 
The Emperor and Empress came in, 
bowing to right and left, and sat down 
in their great gilded chairs, with a little 
army of chamberlains and domestics 
behind them. On a gala night this 
theatre furnished a complete epitome of 
society under the Empire. There might 
be seen in sumptuous toilettes the Count- 



ess de Persigny, the Countess Walewska, 
the beautiful Countess Le Hon. the young 
Duchess de Moray, the Duchess de 
Bassano, and Madame Drouyn de Lhuys, 
Madame de Sauley, ami the Marchioness 
Aguado ; then, in the second rank, the 
joyous ladies who were the especial fa- 
vorites of the Empress, — the Countess 
de Pourtales, the Marchionesses de Gal- 
Iiffet, de Cadore, de Villa Marina, and 
a host of beautiful foreign ladies, Amer- 
ican. Italian, Spanish, German, and 
English. 

On these occasions the toilette de I»it 
was rigorously exacted from all the 
ladies. Xo Duchess of sixty was ex- 
empted by the Empress from the rigid 
rule which required her to bare her 
shoulders. It is said that one day the 
Empress's careful gaze detected an old 
lady who had violated the rule, ami who 
had hidden herself as well as she could 
in the last row of seats in the loges. 
The chamberlain was immediately sent 
to order the lady at once to leave the 
hall. 

On certain occasions the Court was 
invited to some aristocratic chateau in 
the neighborhood. During the day 
there was a hunting expedition, thecere- 
mony of the curie, or the feeding of 
the hounds by torch-light in the court- 
yard ; and afterwards, in the parlors, a 
great ball. 



4i) EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER THREE. 

What was the Second Empire? — now was it Created ? -The Perjury of the Prince President. — The 
Plebiscite. — The Massacres of December. — General Changarnicr and his Fidelity to his Coun- 
try.— The Protest of the Deputies. — Struggle of the Citizens. — The Reign of Terror.— The 
Imperial Eagle. — A Period of Absolute Repress 

WE Lave seen the Second Empire :it befell Fiance before the foundation of 
the height of its glory, its creator the Third Republic, 
and master surrounded by brilliant pag- The story has been told in a hundred 
cants, visited by neighboring monarchs, ways: with picturesque and poetic vi- 
entertainiug the nations at a grand fes- vacity by Victor Hugo and Kinglake ; 
tival of peace and industry, and inaugu- with force and sincerity by Taxile De- 
rating in the same year a democratic ami lord ; anil with the unpitying and flawless 
liberal policy. To the casual observer clearness of a judge summing tip the 
this might have seemed a fitting cnlmi- career of one on trial before him, by 
nation to a just and honorable career. Jules Simon. 

But, while everything on the surface was The majority of those who voted for 
fair to see, it was impossible to deny the Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte aa 
presence of internal convulsions, which President of the French Republic, on 
seemed likely to brine' speedy disrup- the 10th of December, 1848, doubtless 
lion and ruin upon the Imperial party, expected that, in the course of his polit- 
if not upon the nation which it governed, ical career, he would undertake a roup 
What was the cause of the powerful d'Etat. As Jules Simon very neatly 
opposition to the Empire which had puts it, " A nation does not give a Re- 
grown up since 18G5? Why was it that public into the hands of :i prince when 
the leading liberals of the country, who it wishes to stive a Republic." But 
were naturally anxious at all cost to shortly after his election, the President, 
maintain public order and to prevent the in obedience to the constitution, which 
advent to power of the aggressive Social- had abolished the political oath for till 
ists and Communists, — why was it that functionaries except for the chief magis- 
they did not ralry to the support of this trate of the nation, took, before the 
Empire, which professed its willingness national representatives in the Assem- 
to give the country ample liberty, just as blv, the following oath: — 
last, as it could demonstrate its fitness to " In the presence of God, and before 
possess it? A sufficient answer to these the French people represented by the 
questions may be found in a brief recital National Assembly, 1 swear to remain 
of the origin of the Second Empire ; and faithful to the Republic, democratic. 
this resume of one of the most remarka- nut: ft indivisible, and to fulfil till the 
ble political events of modern times is duties which the constitution imposes 

ui ssaiv to a complete understanding upon me." 

of the dramatic series of disasters which This was certainly a formal engage- 



KUROI-E IX STORM AND CALM. 



41 



merit, from which then' was no honora- 
blc retreat, and the President of the 
Assembly solemnly called upon God and 
man to witness the oath which the Prince 
had just taken. From that time for- 
ward the French Republic rested entirely 
upon the good faith of Prince Louis 
Napoleon, who hail from his earliest 
childhood announced publicly to his 
friends and acquaintances that he would 
one day lie Emperor of France, and who 
had twice himself tried, by force of arms, 
to gain power in the country to which he 
felt himself called by fate. 1 do not 
say called by Providence, for Providence 
entered but little into the calculations of 
the late Emperor of the French, lie 
was a pure fatalist; far more so even 
than the first Napoleon, and showed 
ample proof of this in the manner in 
which he submitted, without even a dem- 
onstration of heroism, to his misfortune 
at Sedan. lie felt, in short, that the 
■' game was up." that the stars were no 
longer kindly ; and he was too strong to 
complain, too much of a fatalist to 
make any endeavor to change circum- 
stances. 

Louis Napoleon lost no time in con- 
firming the assurances which he had given 
in his oath. On the 20th of December, 
1848, he said that the suffrages of the 
nation and the oath that lie had taken 
commanded his future conduct and 
traced his public duty, so that he could 
not mistake it. "I shall regard," he 
said, " as enemies of the country all 
those who try by illegal means to change 
the form of government which you have 
established." He hail previously said 
(just before Iris election) that if elected 
President he should devote himself en- 
tirely, without any sort of reserve, to the 
establishment of the Republic. " I will 
pledge my honor," he said, " to leave 
at the end of four years to mv succes- 



sor power strengthened, liberty intact, 
and real progress accomplished." 

M. Jules Simon tells us that on the 
12th of August, 1850, the President of 
the Republic said to the mayor of Lyons, 
"You may possibly have heard some 
remarks about a coup d'Etat. You did 
not believe them, and I thank you for 
this proof of confidence." At a great 
dinner, given in his honor at Strasbourg, 
he alluded to the rumors of a possible 
attack upon the Republic, and repudi- 
ated them with scorn. "I know noth- 
ing but my duty," he said. A year after- 
wards, in November of 1851, he still 
professed an unalterable devotion to the 
Republic. The President of the Council 
said of him to one of his colleagues, 
•• lie is the most honest man in the 
Republic. He will never betray his 
oath ; I am sure of it ." 

For more than three years, therefore. 
Prince Louis Napoleon Bonaparte an- 
nounced repeatedly, and on public and 
private occasions, that he was faithful 
to the Republic, and that he would con- 
sider as a great criminal any one who 
should become a traitor to that form of 
government, so recently established in 
France. But there seems little doubt 
that as early as 1850 he had definitely 
resolved to betray his trust. From that 
time forward he began to have uses for 
large sums of money, which his expen- 
ditures merely as President of the Re- 
public did not seem to justify. lie 
received as salary 1,200,000 francs from 
the nation, and perquisites : but he man- 
aged to get bis appropriation increased 
to 1,490,000 francs the first year, ami 
to 3,410,000 the second year. In every 
place of importance to which he could 
appoint a functional'}' he put a man wdio 
was devoted, not to the State or to the 
Republic, but to himself. Never were 
there so many men of small or no scru- 



42 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



pies placed i:i ministerial and other 
positions of trust anil lionor. 

In 18;")0 lie began to copy in many 
ways the fashions of the First Empire, 
and to talk everywhere of the Napoleonic 
Legend, which had already been so use- 
ful to him. In January of 1849, and al 
the end of 1850, there were mysterious 
movements of troops, which wen' 
thought by the Republicans to indicate 
attempts al a coup d'Etat. But nothing 
came of either of them. A good story 
is told of the clever manner in which 
old General Changarnier managed to 
prevent the Imperialist manifesto in 
1850. A great review of troops had 
been held on the heights of Satory near 
Versailles. At this review the troops, 
who had been thoroughly interested in 
the Imperial cause, cried boldly, "Vive 
VEmpereur!" Troops had been massed 
around the Gare St. Lazare in Paris, 
and it was intended that the Prince 
President, when he arrived from the 
review, should place himself at the head 
of these troops, march to (he Tuileries, 
and there proclaim his Dictatorship. 
But those who had thus plotted had not 
taken into account the cleverness of 
General Changarnier, who had discov- 
ered this plot, and who checked it by a 
movement of supreme coolness and good 
sense. The Prince President arrived at 
the railway station with his proclamation 
in his pocket, and surrounded by his 
counsellors and by the ringleaders of the 
conspiracv. He was moving to his car- 
riage when General Changarnier stepped 
up, complimented him upon the success 
of the review, ceremoniously conducted 
him to the carriage, shut the door of it 
with his own hands, and said to the 
coachman, " Drive to the Flysee." Na- 
poleon was not devoid of esprit. lie 
saw by something in Changarnier's de- 
meanor that his plan had been discov- 



ered. lh took can' not to countermand 
the orders given to the coachman. 

( )ld General Changarnier was incor- 
ruptible to the hist. lie used to say 
that Napoleon hail frequently offered to 
him, not onlv the dignity of marshal, 
but various other important positions, if 
the general would consent to enlist him- 
self in the ranks of the conspirators. 
When it was found that Changarnier 
could not be corrupted, he was attacked 

on all sides by the party in power, 
finally he was removed from his post 
as Commander of the Army and the 
National Guard. ( >n that day Monsieur 
Thiers, who was wiser than most of the 
men of his time, said in the legislative 
assembly, "The Empire is established." 
In 1851 Napoleon and his men moved 
rapidly forward to the conclusion of 
their enterprise. The law of the .'list of 
May. which suppressed three millions 
of voters, and to establish which the 
Prince President had himself helped, was 
now used by him to increase his popu- 
larity at the expense of that of the 
National Assembly. Indeed, Napoleon 
placed himself with great dexterity in 
this secure position, that he might say 
to the French people that if he over- 
turned the Assembly it was to save 
universal suffrage. The fust step tow- 
ards absolute power was thus made by 
causing a conflict of authority between 
the Prince President and the representa- 
tives of the people in the National As- 
sembly. Then the Assembly proposed 
what was known as the loi des questeurs, 
which cave the right to the officers of 
the Assembly to demand forces necessary 
to scenic the legislative body against 
armed interference. This was a sign of 
weakness, of which the Imperial faction 
speedily took advantage. While matur- 
ing their plan, the Imperialists had natu- 
rally bestowed great attention upon the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



43 



army. As M. Jules Simon says, "The 
generals were mere creatures of the Im- 
perialist conspirators." Those honest 
and courageous soldiers, who, like Lamo- 
riciere, could not be counted upon to 
betray the country's cause, were already 
placed on a black list, and marked for 
arrest and seclusion whenever the blow 
should be struck. It is said that a 
great part of the patrimony of Napoleon 
was given away, in small and large .sums, 
to people in the military service whom 
he wished to corrupt. He even bor- 
rowed large sums for the same use 
both before and after his election as 
President. 

On the 1st of December, 1851, there 
was the usual evening reception at the 
Palace of the Elys6e. Various accounts 
of the events which occurred on this even- 
ing have been printed. Perhaps none 
are more correct than those of M. Maxime 
Ducampand M. Jules Simon. The Prince 
President remained in the parlors talking 
with the members of the diplomatic corps 
and distinguished visitors on all sorts of 
trivial matters, and making numerous 
engagements for the following day. No 
one saw in his face, or detected in his 
words, any signs of preoccupation. 
About ten o'clock, on this evening, the 
President made a sign to a colonel who 
had been named by the conspirators that 
very evening the chief of staff of the 
National Guard. " Colonel," said he, 
smiling, " are you master enough of 
your face not to let any great emotion ap- 
pear upon it?" — "I fancy so, Prince," 
replied the newly-promoted colonel. 
"Very well, then, it is fur to-night," 
replied the President, in a low voice. 
" You do uot start? Very well ; we are 
all right ! Can you give me your word 
that, to-morrow, the rappel will not be 
sounded anywhere, and that no assem- 
bly of the National Guard will take 



place?" The colonel proceeded to say 
that he could and would cany out any 
order of that nature. The fact is. that 
when he left the Klysee that night he 
had the skins taken off from all the drum- 
heads, which was a very effective manner 
of preventing the drummers from making 
a noise on the fatal day. The Prince 
President conversed a few moments 
longer with the colonel, then said, "Go 
to the Minister of "War : lint do not leave 
at once, or it will be thought I have given 
you an order." Then, taking the arm 
of the Spanish Ambassador, who came 
up at that moment, the Prince returned 
to his guests. 

( >n the same day, but earlier in the 
evening, the Prince President, in con- 
versation with the Mayor of Nantes, 
said to him, speaking of rumors of con- 
spiracy which had been recently circu- 
lated, " You, at least, M. Favre, do 
not believe this story; is it not so? You 
know that I am an honest man." The 
Mayor of Nantes must have smiled 
shortly afterwards, when he saw the 
work which the honest man had done. 

The next morning the French people, 
and the world outside, learned that the 
coup iFEtai had come at last. M.Thiers, 
the Generals Cavaignac, Lamoriciere, 
Bedeau, Changarnier, and other dis- 
tinguished officers, had been dragged 
from their beds and carried off to the 
prison of Mazas. 

All the streets surrounding the Flys^e 
and the Palais Bourbon, where the Na- 
tional Assembly held its sessions, were 
blocked up with troops. The officers 
commanding the few soldiers who were 
guarding the Legislative Palace were 
disarmed, and many of the officials of 
the Assembly were arrested. When the 
colonel charged with the duty of tak- 
ing the Legislative Palace entered that 
building he first went to the command- 



44 



/ i ROPE IX STORM AND 0A1 U 



ant. There he found the lieutenant- 
colonel, who, startled by the unusual 
noise in the night, was just putting on 
his clothes. The colonel seized a sword 
which was lying upon the chair; where- 
upon the Republican officer advanced, 
pale with rage, and said, "You do well 
to take it, for a moment later I would 
have run you through the body with it." 
This was, however, the only sign of re- 
sistance then made. When the morning 
of the "id of December dawned nearly 
all the Liberal and Republican deputies 
of tlie country had been locked up in 
prison. Public buildings and offices 
were taken possession of by the con- 
spirators, and the hostile newspapers 
were suppressed, ami a proclamation 
posted on the walls announced, "in the 
name of the French people and by de- 
cree of the President of the Republic," 
the dissolution of the National Assem- 
bly, and the re-establishment of univer- 
sal suffrage. New elections were de- 
creed. A stale of siege was established 
in what was called the first military 
division. The Council of State was 
dissolved. This was revolution indeed. 

The proclamation of the Prince Presi- 
dent to the French nation was headed 
by the words, " Appeal to the People," 
which has ever since (hat time been the 
watchword of the Bonapartist party. 

That everything was carried out on 
this memorable night with such precision 
and complete order is the best proof 
that the coiq) d'Etat was prepared a long 
time in advance. It is even said that 
the Prince President had long had near 
him in a sealed package these proclama- 
tions ; and that on the package was 
written the word " Rubicon :" from which 
we may infer that he compared his forth- 
coming adventurous enterprise to the 
crossing of the Pill iic. ,n b) Ca'sar. 

Tlie resistance to this astoundinedy 



audacious act was prompt, hut feeble. 
A few deputies and politicians got to- 
gether hastily ami signed a protest, de- 
claring that the Prince President by his 
act. in virtue of an article in the Consti- 
tution, had forfeited his position ; and in 
this same document the convening of the 
High Court of Justice was suggested. 
This document was signed by many of 
tlie most distinguished and eloquent men 
in France. Victor Hugo, who afterward 
became so prominent ami powerful an 
enemy of the Imperialist cause, then 
drew up an appeal to arms, which was 
hastily struck off in the neighboring 
printing-offices, ami scattered through 
the crowd. Finally a few deputies got 

together in the Palais Courb the Im- 
perialist soldiers, meantime, Inning 
closed most of the doors and locked 
them, ami left the building. But no 
sooner had the forty or fifty deputies, 
who had got in through a. back door, 
begun their session, than a new body 
of soldiers arrived and drove them out. 
The deputies, and about one hundred 
and sixty or one hundred and seventy 
others then took refuge in one of the 
municipal buildings in the tenth ward, 
and there unanimously voted the decree 
which was drawn up by the great Per. 
rver, and which proclaimed the downfall 
of Bonaparte. 

But all this- was of no avail. Troops, 
police commissioners, and other authori- 
ties, once more dispersed the represent- 
atives of the country in the name of the 
new 1'rcfect of Police. A young officer 
coolly read a despatch which he had just 
received from a general to whom had 
been given the chief command of the 
troops in Paris. By this despatch the 
unlucky deputies learned that those who 
offered any resistance were to be at 
once arrested and taken to Mazas. 
They therefore surrendered, an 1 went in 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



45 



a body to the great prison, conducted, as 

if they themselves were the insurrection- 
ists, by a squad of troops. Some of 
them were even taken by the collar, as 
if they were thieves or pickpockets. 

Then came the struggle of the citi- 
zens Sghting for the constitution and 
the laws against the corrupted army 
and the representatives of the newly 
arrived authority. Those days of barri- 
cades and massacre are nut ye( forgot- 
ten. The spirit of Baudin, who was 
killed on the barricade in one of the 
davs which followed the coup d'Etat, was 
destined to rise sixteen years afterwai'ds 
and strike terror into the hearts of the 
supporters of the Empire. There were 
plenty of heroic attempts at resistance, 
but none were attended with any success 
in the first two or three days. The 
deputies who had escaped arrest went 
from barricade to barricade, haranguing 
the crowds who had gathered to light 
the troops. Wherever the cry of " Vive 
VAssemblie Nationale " was raised the 
troops charged upon the citizens, and a 
great many innocent and unarmed 
people were killed. On the 4th of 
December there was a veritable mas- 
sacre on the boulevard, ami fifteen hun- 
dred men made a vigorous defence 
against more than forty thousand. It 
is said that on this day more than 
sixty people were killed between the 
Boulevard Bonne Nouvelle and the 
Boulevard des [taliens ; and the official 
imperial papers six months after the 
light admitted that three hundred and 
eighty persons were killed upon that day. 
On the 27th of January, 1853, M. de 
Maupas, Minister of Police, presented 
to the new Emperor a table, showing 
that twenty-sis thousand six hundred 
and forty-two persons were arrested or 
prosecuted in France after the coup 
d'Etat, Twenty thousand of these were 



condemned to different terms of impris- 
onment; the others were set at liberty. 
Thousands of persons were subjected to 
police surveillance, one of the most hu- 
miliating afflictions which can befall a 
human being. Nine hundred and fifteen 
persons were sentenced by courts-martial 
for crimes against the common law. so 
called, which were really nothing but 
political offences. Nearly ten thousand 
political opponents of the new Empire 
were transported to Algeria. Thousands 
upon thousands were sent to linger in 
unhealthy prisons and in transport-ships 
waiting until there was an opportunity 
to send them to Cayenne or Lambessa. 
The least prejudiced and most careful 
authorities believe that they are not 
guilty of exaggeration in saying that the 
Revolution of the I'd of December, 1851, 
made, at least one hundred thousand 
victims. 

When the authors of the run/) d'Etat 
were well established in power they pro- 
ceeded to fortify their position. They 
voted a •• law of general surety." which 
placed every Frenchman at the arbitrary 
disposition of the police, to be trans- 
ported if he did, or even thought, any- 
thing against the government. Jules 
Simon says, '•The law of the L'Tth of 
February, 1858, called the Law of 
General Surety, placed every citizen at 
the mercy of the Minister of the Inte- 
rior." The whole country seemed bound 
with iron bands. People who had be- 
come accustomed, under the Republic 
and under the comparatively mild mon- 
archies which had succeeded each other 
since the Fust Empire, to a reasonable 
amount of liberty, were astounded be- 
yond measure at the regime in which they 
now entered. A respectable and respon- 
sible citizen would be arrested upon the 
denunciation of some political and private 
enemy; would lie kept in prison without 



46 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



being allowed to communicate with his 
family for weeks, sometimes for months ; 
would then be brought up before a com- 
missioner of police, who had very likely 
never heard of him, being appointed from 
the rank of the numerous Corsicans faith- 
ful t<> the Imperialist cause, and would 
be sentenced to transportation. lb' 
would then be shackled with a criminal, 
packed into a prison wagon, taken to a 
seaport, and sent off to Cayenne, living, 
eating, and sleeping with the vilest crimi- 
nals, when his only offence might have 
been a word spoken lightly in blame of 
the Empire. 

A discreet and moderate critic has 
Slimmed up the reasons for the success of 
the i-niij) d'Etat in a few words. " The 
enterprise," he says, " only succeeded be- 
cause it was supported by sixty thousand 
men, and because at the first sign of re- 
sistance M. I )e Morny, according to his 
own expression, ■•knew how 'to take 
the town by terror.' Immense fail! 
France, with its military system, is in 
the power of him who holds the control 
of the armed forces in his hands." M. 
de Sybel s:n s of the slaughter during 
the days following the coup d'Etat on 
the 4th of December : " When the Prince 
saw that there was an armed resistance 
the tiger in him got the uppermost. 
The troops received an order to suppress 
the movement witli pitiless energy. In 
a few hours many hundreds of men, 
simple spectators, women, old men, and 
children, were maxxavred. It was the 
same in the departments. Wherever 
resistance broke out. it was /»»' down 

with frightful cruelty. The Dumber of 
those actually killed lias not been made 
known, hut more than twenty-six thou- 
sand men were sent across the ocean in 
exile in a tew weeks. " 

Immediately after the country had 
been terrorized by the coup d'Etat and its 



attendant massacres, the President an- 
nounced "The Plebiscite." Now a ple- 
biscite is the favorite arm of French 
Imperialism. It is an election with appar- 
ent fairness, yet an election so arranged 
that it is impossible for citizens with 
safety to vole against the interests of the 
government which brings about the elec- 
tion. The formula laid down by the new 

authorities, to be voted upon, was as fol- 
lows: '•The French people wishes the 
maintenance of the authority of Louis 
Napoleon Hon.- 1 parte, and delegates to 
him the powers necessary to make a con- 
stitution on the hasis proposed in his 
proclamation of the "id of December." 
Thus the country had first the dispersion 
of iis regularly elected representatives 
by an armed force ; then a proclamation 
by the party employing that armed force 
announcing new elections; then the new 
elections held within the iron grooves 
made by the party having possession of 
power. It is therefore not startling that 
the country, humiliated, crushed, and 
fearful lest, if the embryo Empire were 
swept away, civil war might ensue, gave 
its coerced assent to the formula of the 
plebiscite. The vote was as follows: 
7,439,216, " Yes," against 640,737, 
•• No." The Prince President professed 
to be delighted with his triumph, and 
went forward bravely to the construction 
of the Constitution. With regard to this 
•• plebiscite " it should he added, that 
there were more than a million and a half 
of abstentions in the country, and these 
may be supposed to represent the men 
who were loo honest to say yes, and too 
weak to say no. These many millions 
of votes, on which the claims of the Im- 
perial party to power have been based 
ever since, gave Louis Napoleon Bona- 
parte the presidency of the Republic for 
ten years. " France." he said, in joyous 
indiscretion, " has responded to the royal 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



47 



>f the 



appeal which I made to her. She has 
understood that I transgressed legality 
only to get back to justice." More than 
seven millions of votes had absolved 
him. 

Thenceforward the attitud 
Prince President was void of 
dissimulation. On the 1st of 
January. 1852, he placed the 
Imperial eagle on his flags, 
chose the Tuileries for his 
residence, even had a Te 
I>< urn sung at the cathedral 
of Notre Dame de Paris, and 
otherwise imitated the pro- 
ceedings of the First Empire. 
In the same month he ex- 
pelled from tile country all 
the old representatives of the 
Legislative Assembly who 
had opposed him ; and among 
them were such men as Victor 
Hugo, Edouard Laboulaye, 
Nadaud, Bancel, Pelletier, 
Schoelcher, andGambon. lie 
also sentenced to temporary 
exile Changarnier, Thiers, de 
Remusat, and many other dis- 
tinguished Republicans. This 
month of January was a fruit- 
ful working time with him. 
He promulgated the new Con- 
stitution, of which he was the 
author, and in which he at- 
tributed to himself the initia- 
tive of the laws, the appoint- 
ing of the members of the 
Senate, and defined the few 
rights which were left to the lower 
house of the Legislature. Next, lie 
created a Minister of Police and confis- 
cated the estates of the Orleans family ; 
but it was not until September of this 
same year that, while inaugurating the 
equestrian statue of Napoleon I., at 
Lyons, he hinted his intention of re- 



establishing the Empire ; and in < >ctober, 
at Bordeaux, he made a speech, in which 
he used the celebrated phrase, •• ' L'Em- 
pire e'est la paix.' It is peace because 
France desires if ; and when France is 
satisfied the rest of the world is tranquil." 




MJ 



EPISODE OF THE COUP D'ETAT. 

On his return to Paris cries of " Vine 
VEmpereur!" were raised by the official 
chorus always in his train ; but the Prince 
President was like Richard III., — he 
liked to lie urged ; and, according to 
him, it was only in obedience to public 
opinion that he consented to consult the 
Senate. This servile body voted the 



4S 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



establishment of the Empire, almost 
unanimously, in November of 1852, and 
a new plebiscite gave 7,824,129 votes 
for the Empire and 253,149 against it. 

Exactly one year after the coup oVEtat, 
on the 1st. of December, 1852, at eight 
o'clock in the evening, Louis Bonaparte 
was solemnly proclaimed Emperor, by 
the name of Napoleon III., at St. Cloud, 
in the presence of the Senate and the 
Corps Ligislatif. By a decree of the 
18th of the same mouth he arranged 
the order of succession to the throne. 
richly dowered the newly made Impe- 
rial family, and gave himself a civil list 
of 25,000,000 francs, exclusive of the 
revenues derived from the domain of 
the crowu. 

We need not pursue further our re- 
view of the Second Empire. Its whole 
history, from the creation of Napo- 
leon as President to the brilliant year 



of which we have sketched some of the 
salient features, may be read in the fol- 
lowing brief sentences from the pen of 
Jules Simon : — 

"I will pass over the eighteen years 
of the reign inaugurated by the 2d of 
December. They might he summed up 
as to the internal rigime in these words : 
the mixed commissions (which decreed 
the executions and expulsions following 
the cuiiji d'Etat) ; the general surety; 
the repressive administration of the 
Press, and the official candidateships ; no 
liberties whatever ; and for the external 
policy, this only: Sevastopol ; Italian 
unity cleft in twain by the Peace of 
Villafranca ; Mexico; Sadowa ; no al- 
liance." 

It was, in short, a period of absolute 
repression, which was approaching its 
close iii 1867, and which was to finish in 
storm and blood. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



49 



CHAPTER FOUR. 

The Imperial Reforms come Too Late. — Uprising of the Internationale. — The Commune Foreshadowed. 



WHEN the Emperor Napoleon III. 
endeavored to save his tottering 
Empire by inaugurating liberal reforms 
in France, it was already too late. In 
his own party there were few if any 
statesmen, or even politicians of talent 
and importance, who believed that it 
was either safe or expedient to abandon 
the practice of repression, which had 
been kept up with such vigor for many 
years ; and all the sincere friends of 
real liberty were determined to postpone 
the advent of freedom rather than to 
accept it from the hands of " the man 
of December." The Empire was in dan- 
ger abroad from the constantly growing 
influence of Prussia, and at home from 
the skilful and insidious working of the 
great "International Association," — a 
mysterious bod} 7 of conspirators, with 
which most of the talented working- 
men of the great cities of France had 
relations ; from the gradually growing 
courage of the Press ; ami also from 
the untameable eloquence of certain 
young orators in Paris, who, like Gam- 
betta, had not yet found a public out- 
side of the cafe's of the Latin Quarter, 
but who were not frightened by visions 
of fine or imprisonment, and who man- 
aged to tell the people a good deal of 
truth. 

The Emperor had in his early days 
made careful studies of the condition of 
the working-men in France and in other 
European countries. He had written, 
during his captivity at Ham, certain 
pamphlets which caused him to be ac- 



cused of socialistic tendencies ; and he 
used laughingly to say of himself, when 
lie was in the full tide of his power at 
the Tuileries, that he was the only mem- 
ber of the European family of sovereigns 
who was a socialist. The real fact is 
that Napoleon III. was not a socialist at 
all, but that he was a skilful demagogue ; 
and had his lot been cast in a Republi- 
can country, where political campaigns 
are conducted with the greatest freedom, 
and even license, he would have been in 
his youth at the head of a working-men's 
party, which would have been powerful 
and unscrupulous, because he would 
have taken advantage of its ignorance. 
The Empire at regular intervals made 
bids for popularity among the working- 
classes, and as regularly failed to achieve 
it. The endowment of hospitals, and 
occasional visits to industrial centres, did 
not, in the eyes of the thoroughly grieved 
and angered hi borer, compensate for the 
lack of public schools, and for the main- 
tenance of most of the old monarchical 
oppressive formalities with regard to the 
condition of the toiler for wages. 

The retainers of the Empire had vivid 
memories of the Revolution of 1848. 
They took full advantage of their knowl- 
edge of its follies and its failures, 
and used them as an argument against 
giving full liberties to the masses. Na- 
poleon himself, by the famous letter of 
the 19th of January, 1867, in which he 
spoke with such apparent frankness of 
past repression, and made such generous 
promises of future liberality, meant to 



. r )(l EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 

check in some measure the working- were gradually unsettling the social 

men's movement against the Empire order, and at the same time by arrange- 

aud against authority. lie had been inents with Prussia to offset the pre- 

shrewd enough to observe this movement ponderanee which that aggressive nation 

two or three years before it came to the had recently obtained, by getting some 

surface. No man was better placed territorial aggrandizement for France, 

than himself for obtaining a full appre- he might have died upon the throne of 

ciation of the volcanic shimmer; none France. 

better qualified to judge of the moment But the fates see d against him. 

when the hidden forces might break and the Napoleons have always believed 
forth. He knew the thinness of the crust in the fates. The ease with which he 
upon which he stood; but, although he succumbed in 1*70 leads one to believe 
knew it. his supporters and partisans, that he felt his cause lost when he failed 
flushed with long maintenance of power, in 1867 and 1868 to cany out his plan, 
and blinded by their contempt for the The first check which the Emperor 
laboring classes, refused to appreciate it, received, in his endeavor to save the sit- 
M. Rouher, so long in the service of nation, came from the efforts of a pow- 
the Empire that he had come familiarly ei'ful and popular Parisian journalist, 
to be called the "Vice-Emperor," was M. Emile de Girardin, an old war-horse 
deeply grieved, and somewhat angered of combat, who had a reputation in 
by Napoleon's letter. M. Rouher was France something like that won by 
a robust Auvergnat, blessed with two Horace Greeley in America; who had the 
tine elements of success, — a massive energy and bravery of a good soldier, 
physique, which gave him an unbounded and the suppleness, the delicacy in in- 
capacity for work; and an easy con- trigue, of a trained diplomat. M. de 
science, which enabled him to find a Girardin was an uncompromising enemy 
speedy apology for any misdeed which of the Emperor's new departure, and as 
seemed to serve for the moment the ends early as March, 1867, he was so aggres- 
of the Empire. Rouher was expected by sive as to come under the Imperial law, 
his friends to resign his portfolio as Min- and he was lined 5,000 francs for a press 
ister of State at the beginning of 18G7, offence. This was because he denied 
because it was well known in Imperialist with much eloquence the Emperor's as- 
circles that he was the greatest advocate sertion that he had brought the country 
of a continuance of repressive policy, gradually, year by year, up to better 
He used to say that the reforms of which things. Another journalist who dared to 
the Emperor talked so airily would be beard the Emperor, and who did it with 
the very abomination of desolation ; that a skill and daring of which Fiance had 
the country had all the liberties it was rarely seen instances for half a genera- 
fitted to possess, and that it was suicidal tion, was Henri Roehefort, whose roinan- 
for the Empire to grant more. It is tic history since that time is now well 
impossible to avoid the conclusion that known all over the world. Roehefort 
Napoleon was gifted with greater fore- began to write in a sprightly Paris journal 
sighl than that possessed by his Minister called the Fitj<ir>>, about the time that 
of State. Had the Emperor been able to that paper became a daily in 1866. He 
achieve his purpose of satisfying by par- won a brilliant reputation as a chroniqueur 
tial reforms the clamorous workers wdio and critic of political events in 1867, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



51 



:iih1 the liberal public rallied around him. 
The blows which he struck were so hard 
that the Empire speedily put itself upon 
the defensive, and the sale of the Figaro 
upon the public street was forbidden by 
law. This under the Empire was a 
common occurrence. The purchaser of 
a Republican or Liberal paper expected 
at least once a month to find that his 
journal had been seized, or that its 
sale had been stopped in the little kiosks, 
or wooden pavilions, where tin' news- 
vendors sell their wares on the bovle- 



writing against the Empire. They were 
not always decent in their attacks, and 
51. Rochefort must now and then blusb 
when lie remembers the diatribes pub- 
lished in his Lanterne, which was founded 
by him, in 1868, expressly to combat the 
Empire. 

But they did their work, and did it 
well. The more the Empire prosecuted, 
the greater became the daring of the 
journalists of these last days of the 
Imperial rigime, and the Emperor was 
bitterly perplexed. If he accorded com- 




A PARISIAN .JOURNALIST IN PRISON. 



vards; and he went philosophically to 
the bookseller, behind whose sheltering 
windows he would find the offending 
journal, generally at an advanced price. 
Do Girardin and Rochefort gave the first 
impetus to the final revolt against the 
Empire. They laughed to scorn the 
promises of those who had so long 
practised a different doctrine from that 
which they now professed. They spoke 
out with an earnestness all the more 
striking because it was contrasted with 
the irony, or the compressed wit, with 
which Liberals like Prevost Paradol had 
felt obliged to content themselves when 



plete liberties he felt that he might be 
swept away on account of them ; if he 
did not accord complete liberties they 
might be taken by force out of his 
hands. 

The International Association of 
Workingmen was an enemy which the 
faltering Empire strove to reach by 
every means in its power. It tracked 
down the humble artisans who met in 
out of the way places to pass measures 
which in America or England would 
have been considered as in no way prej- 
udicial to the safety of the State, and 
not very dangerous to the property of 



52 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



the capitalist. It published decrees. 
It strengthened its prohibitive measures 
against secret societies, and put down 
" strikes," which were becoming very 
numerous, with the greatest promptness. 
Rut tin.' Internationale, as it was called, 
was ns difficult to kill as tin' Nihilist 
organization has been at a later day in 
Russia. '• It was," says the Vicomtc 
de Reaumont-Vassy, in his " Authentic 
History of the Commune of Paris." •• a 
terrible secret society, which sought to 
envelop the whole world in its invisible 
snares, and seemed to us in the nine- 
teenth century as if endeavoring t<> 
execute upon governments such sen- 
tences as the secret tribunals of Ger- 
many in the middle ages executed Upon 
sovereigns." 

The Internationale was a terrible 'ma- 
llear to the bourgeois, or property-holding 
man of the middle classes, and his fears 
were not unfounded, as will he seen 
later. 

It is the fashion in France to say 
that the Internationale had its origin 
in Germany. I have no desire to 
enter closely into the origin of the 
Association. The supposition that it is 

due to the theories so copiously written 
upon by Leibnitz and Jacobi in Germany 
has no better foundation than that which 
gives us as its originators such great 
and wrong-headed thinkers as Proudhon 
ami Pierre Leroux. 

A certain number of French writers 
say that the first socialistic- notions of 
the Internationale came into France with 
the German workmen who emigrated 
from their homes in great numbers to 
the fertile lands and richer cities beyond 
the Rhine, in the ten years preceding 
the war of 1870. That which is estab- 
lished beyond doubt is that the Inter- 
nationale was a practical and active 
organization, setting aside as useless the 



vague and hollow theories of Louis Rhine 
and other kindred spirits about the rela- 
tions of labor to capital anil to the State. 
The laborers of the new generation were 
determined on emancipation. 

In England, Karl Marx brought theln- 
ternational Association of Working-men 
fairh into good society for a time; and 
in the countries where it was not harassed 
and driven into hiding-places it did not 
extensively advertise its socialistic pro- 
pensities. In France, because the Em- 
pire harried it without cessation, it 
fomented strikes, provoked riots in the 
cities, and published proclamations which 
made the bourgeois tremble in his shoes. 
I have heard Frenchmen seriously say 
that Bismarck subsidized the Association 
at the time of tin' great Creuzol strike. 
The reason given for this was that 
Prussia, always on the alert against at- 
tacks by the Imperial Government, had 
a direct interest in creating as much 
embarrassment for that government as 
possible. This is a doubtful story. 

The programme of the International 
Association was comprehensive and radi- 
cal. It was printed for the first time 
in London, and speedily got into print 
in France, although any comment upon 
its doctrines was sternly forbidden. The 
document was as follows: — 

•• Every man has a right to existence, 
and. consequently, a right to work. 

"The right to work is imprescriptible, 
and, for that reason, ought to be accom- 
panied by the right of instruction and of 
liberty of action. 

•■ As it is at present constituted, so- 
ciety can offer no real guarantee to the 
laborer. 

'• In fact, an obstacle arises before 
him at the very outset of his career. 
This obstacle is capital. 

•■ Whichever way the laborer turns, he 
cannot battle against the inert force of 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



53 



money, accompanied and supported by 

the intelligent capitalist. 

" To solve the problem some have tried 
association; others, mutualism. They 
thought they were settling, but in fact 
they were only muddling, the question. 

•'They did not perceive that, so long 
as capital remained intact, the associa- 
tion of mere brain and muscle would not 
suffice ; but that they must have their 
<>un capital, and that this is all the more 
important, because the money capitalists 
would oppose with all their force the 
revolt of labor against their tyranny. 
By this fact alone previous associations 
of working-men are condemned. Mutual- 
ism has done nothing for the working- 
man or the laborer but to put him more 
than ever under the domination of money ; 
so that there is nothing to be hoped from 
these methods. 

" Now, it is not capital alone which 
binds down the working-man. Swaddled 
from his infancy in the triple long-clothes 
of country, family, and religion ; cradled 
in the respect for property, however it 
may have been got, the proletariat can 

become something only on c lition of 

annihilating all this, of casting away 
from it these old notions of paternal 
barbarisms. 

•' The International Association lias 
and can have no other aim than thai of 
aiding in the extinction of these mon- 
strous prejudices. 

•' It ought to become to workmen 
of all countries a centre of action, an 
energetic director, to show them how to 
act together. It alone has the power 
and the right to discipline the masses, 
to hurl them upon their oppressors, who 
will feel crushed beneath the shock. 

"To this end its programme should 
be the abolition of all religions, of prop- 
erty, of the family, of the hereditary 
principle, and of the nation. 



" When the International Society of 
Working-men has stamped out the germ 
of these prejudices among all laborers 
capital will be dead. Then society can 
arise upon an indestructible basis; then 
workmen will rally for the right to 
work ; then women will lie free. The 
child will have a real right to live under 
the segis of a society which will no 
longer abuse him. 

■■Hut let no one deceive himself; let 
dreamers seek no system for arriving at 
a solution that force alone can give. 

•• Force ! this is what will give the 
sceptre of the world to the laboring 
classes ; outside of this nothing can lift 
them from the rut of rotten modern civ- 
ilization. 

" When two contrary powers are op- 
posed to one another one of the two 
must be annihilated. 

"To arms, laborers! Progress and 
humanity count upon you." 

Who cannot sec in this twaddling, 
incoherent proclamation the germ of the 
dread Socialism which crept into the 
Commune of Paris shortly after its 
proclamation in I.S71 , and which did such 
dire mischief? Those followers of the 
Empire who were blessed with sufficient 
intelligence to review the shortcomings 
of their party's career could not fail to 
perceive that this programme of the 
Internationale was the outcome of an 
ignorance which might have been 
amended, if not entirely swept away. 
so far as the French working-men were 
concerned. (luring the years between 
1848 and 1867. In point of fact what 
French workmen were clamoring for 
was extremely simple. They needed 
the abolition of the privileges of the 
employing class; the abolition of the 
livret, or ■• character-book," which made 
each artisan in some sense a slavish 
dependent on his employer; and they 



54 



EUROPE f.X STORM AND CALM. 



furthermore needed the right of public 
assembly, unrestricted right to bear 
arms, and the uninterrupted right to 

strike when they hail a decent grievance. 
But, because the Empire had persistently 
denied them these things, they were 
driven in their mad determination to 
protest against the social order which 
had done nothing for them, by affiliation 
with the grotesque and abominable 
theories of this so-called International 
Association of Working-men. When 
the Empire repented ami wished to give 



them reforms the propitious hour was 
passed. The germ of the Commune was 

sown. The government, which had 
usurped authority in France on the ex- 
clusive plea that it had a mission to 
maintain order, had at the end of its 
career the disgrace of seeing a social 
disorder, more profound and terrible than 
any which has occurred elsewhere in this 
century, uprising with dreadful speed, 
ami in spite of the most vigorous en- 
deavor to keep it down. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



5.5 



CHAPTER FIVE. 

Events in Spain.— The Outcropping of Revolution. — Btle of the Internationale. Brief Review of 
Spanish Polities. — DoHa Isabel. ■ Prim and Serrano. — A Journey through the North of Spain. 
Biarritz and San Sebastian. —A Wonderful Railway. — The Approach to the Escurial. — An Im- 
pressive Edifice. — Looking at a Dead Monarch. 



WHILE there were, thus, many pro- 
tests in France against the re- 
pressive government of the Second 
Empire, few people fancied that the Re- 
publican experiment was likely to begin 
in earnest for many years ; and it is amus- 
ing to look back and remember how 
earnestly the French of liberal sympa- 
thies watched the progress of events 
beyond the Pyrenees, confident that in 
Spain the Republic would first get a firm 
hold. Spanish politics have rarely been 
more interesting since the beginning of 
this perturbed century than they were in 
18G9. The rapid succession of pictu- 
resque and dramatic events, which had 
taken place since Queen Isabel fled from 
her capital to San Sebastian, had turned 
the gaze of all Europe to the country 
which seemed suddenly to have awakened 
from its long and slothful devotion to 
priestcraft and to the least intelligent 
form of monarchy. The famous Inter- 
nationale, was said to have wide ramifi- 
cations in Spain, and to be preparing 
socialistic revolutions which were to 
break forth simultaneously in the north- 
ern and southern districts. The disturb- 
ance in Spain undoubtedly contributed 
somewhat to make the authorities of the 
Second Empire in France nervous and 
suspicious. Jt was believed by no one 
in the Imperial party that intelligent Re- 
publicanism was strong enough in either 
France or Spain to establish itself; but 



this mysterious and subterranean agent 
known as the Internationale, working di- 
rectly upon the passions and prejudices of 
the uneducated or half-educated classes, 
was dreaded and feared. In the autumn 
of 1869 the Internationale was as much 
talked of as the Nihilists have been in re- 
cent years. Wherever a blow could be 
struck at it in France, as in 1867, the 
government never lost an opportunity. 

It would be difficult to understand what 
was taking place in Spain at this time 
without briefly reviewing Spanish politi- 
cal history from the beginning of the 
century. We find Napoleon I. at Ba- 
yonne shortly after Charles IV . had given 
up his crown to his son. Ferdinand VII. ; 
and the Corsican ogre has a curt inter- 
view with these two Spanish kings, forc- 
ing them to yield their rights to the 
throne, carrying off the whole royal 
family prisoners into France, and giving 
the crown of Spain to his brother Joseph 
Bonaparte. Victor Hugo has given us 
some thrilling pictures of the life at the 
French Court in Spain after 1808, when 
the country rose as one man against the 
hateful sovereignty which had been im- 
posed upon it. Hugo's mother was in 
the great retreat from Spain when Joseph 
Bonaparte was summarily expelled ; and 
there is no more disastrous withdrawal 
of troops from tin unsuccessful campaign 
in French history than was this. Welling- 
ton and his men had driven the French 



56 EUROPE IX STURM AND CALM. 

troops back upon the Hiiro. Napoleon so ruthlessly shattered. The cultivated 

had corne to the aid of his brother, had and ambitious Liberals of Spain found 

been conqueror at Burgos and Tudela, the air unhealthy for them, and pined 

had even entered Madrid and summoned away in voluntary exile in foreign cities; 

the authorities to give him up the sword or if they ventured to conspire, or to 

which Francis I. had lostatPavia. But think and speak freely against the rotten 

all this was in vain. The guerillas kept condition of the country, they incurred 

up their redoubtable warfare, and. al- heavy penalties. The house of the 

though Saragossa succumbed before the Bourbons, which had reigned in Spain 

tremendous attack of Lannes, Napoleon since 1700, with the slight interregnum 

had to own that he was fairly beaten ; caused by tin- intervention of Napoleon 

and in 1813, Spain, after live years of and his brother, was destined to meet 

most horrible convulsions, put Ferdinand with strange adventures. After Queen 

VII. upon the throne. He was adespot, Isabel had been on the throne for a 

and was soon surrounded by conspiracy, quarter of a century, in 1868 a revolu- 

was frightened into taking an oath to the tion, which had been long foreseen by 

Liberal constitution which hail been pie- the wise men of all countries in Europe, 

pared in 1812, and liberty was springing broke forth with resistless power. Of- 

up when the nobles banded together and lieers of the army, who had been exiled 

stifled it in its cradle. because of Liberal sentiments, gave the 

There was a, revolution, but the sov- signal for this great revolt against nioii- 
ereigns of Europe saw that it would not arehy by a daring incursion into Spain, 
do to let Liberal ideas blossom in Spain. The populations in the cities of the 
and so one hundred thousand Frenchmen South suddenly rose in revolution, and 
reestablished Ferdinand VII. in his ab- the Queen, after sending away so much 
solute power. When this monarch died, of her fortune as she could realize bas- 
in 1833, a civil war of succession broke tilv to banks in Paris and London, fled 
out. Then came Dona Isabel, who was to St. Sebastian. A great joy seemed 
proclaimed as Queen under the tutelage to run through the peninsula, and proc- 
of the queen-mother Maria Christina, and lamations were posted in the cities and 
Don Carlos, the brother of theKing, was in the towns, calling the people to arms, 
excluded. In 1833 the queen-mother The parties unexpectedly coalesced. The 
gave to her people a. constitutional char- exiled generals returned, and organized 
ter. — a kind of weak compromise be- troops in the provinces. Prim and his 
t ween absolutism and liberalism, — and men appeared in front of Cadiz, and 
she hoped that this would strengthen her took the town. Concha, whom Queen 
position. Meantime Don Carlos was Isabel had made her prime minister, 
knocking furiously at her palace gales, look the most energetic measures in 
What bloodshed, what anguish, have vain. All that the frightened queen 
been caused by this Carlist faction dm- could secure was a promise that she' 
ing the last half-century ■ might reenter Madrid without molesta- 

Dona Isabel's reign was neither better timi if she would leave her favorite Mar- 

nor wiser than that of many of her prede- fori behind. Dona Isabel said no; she 

cessors. Espartero and Narvaez in turn would not give up her favorite. She 

exercised their power on the country then received the news that a " provi- 

which had seen its Republican ideals sional government " had been formed at 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



57 



Madrid, and she crossed the frontier 
into France, where she was offered a 
refuge in the hospitable town of Pau. 
Then came the fall of the Bourbons in 
Spain. Universal suffrage was voted. 
The Jesuits were expelled from the 
country, and Spain had entered into a 
Republic with the spilling of less blood 
than is customary at a bull-fight. The 
revolutionary chiefs announced their de- 
termination to give up their powers to 
the Cortes, and Europe marvelled at the 
wisdom of a country usually so turbu- 
lent in its politics. 

This produced an immense impression 
in France; but the press did not feel at 
liberty to draw any conclusions from 
the Republican triumph in Spain. At 
the elections which followed the revolt 
of 1868, a monarchical majority was 
sent to the Cortes, and Marshal Ser- 
rano was made Regent, until, so said 
the monarchists, " a good king can be 
found." It was at this time that Cas- 
telar appeared upon the scene of Span- 
ish politics. After the patriot Orense, 
who had for a long time enjoyed the 
honor of being the only veritable Span- 
ish Republican, he took the direction of 
the Democratic party, and came boldly 
forward to demand of the provisional 
government the immediate proclamation 
of a Spanish Republic. 

General Trim and Marshal Serrano, 
who had opposed the Bourbons only that 
they might get possession of power and 
place upon the throne a king that suited 
them, repelled Castelar's proposition. 
Then the genius of the Spanish orator 
began to declare itself. He made a 
grand tour through all the principal cit- 
ies of Spain, and in each of them made 
ringing speeches in favor of the cause of 
liberty and of republicanism. 

Castelar and Gambetta made their 
definite entry into public notoriety in 



this same exciting year of 1868 ; each 
was gifted with tremendous audacity ; 
each was entirely reckless of conse- 
quences to himself ; and each sowed seed 
from which was afterwards reaped an 
abundant harvest of good for France 
and Spain. Despite Castelar's eloquence 
and his almost superhuman exertions, 
at the general elections for the Cortes in 
the spring of 1869 only thirty-live Repub- 
licans were elected. This was a minority, 
and a decision not unlike that which in 
1869, in the French Corps Ligislatif, 
caused Napoleon III. and his minis- 
ters so much trouble. Castelar dashed 
into the attack upon the government 
with the same energy that he had dis- 
played in iiis campaign throughout the 
country. He asked fur amnesty for all 
political offences, and again demanded 
the establishment of the Republic. Iu 
this same spring, too, he began his fa- 
mous assault upon religious fanaticism, 
which had so long been the curse of 
Spain. He won his battle and liberals 
throughout Europe rejoiced when the tele- 
graph announced, one morning in April, 
1869, that Spain had at last granted lib- 
erty of public worship : but although the 
great man was powerful enough to thrill 
to its very marrow the populations of 
Spain, with his resounding language, 
and to strike terrror into the hearts of 
the reactionists who ventured even to 
apologize for the horrors of the Spanish 
Inquisition ; although he was popular 
enough to have the right of citizenship 
conferred upon him by more than five 
hundred Spanish towns ami villages. — 
he was without success in attacking the 
law which definitely established Marshal 
Serrano as Regent. 

Yet, day by day, the republican move- 
ment spread in wider and wider circles 
throughout the country; and when the 
government of the Regent was bold 



58 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

enougb to announce that it was search- madly. Biarritz was then the mosl 

ing Europe for a new king for Spain, fashionable of French watering-places, 

the revolution, which had been prepared It was the custom to stop at Bayonne, 

by Castelar's subjects, burst forth with a the <>ld town which gave the bayonet its 

violence and savagery quite different name, and to drive over to Biarritz in 

from that of the outbreak in 1868. diligences, drawn by hardy little mules, 

First the crown was offered to an ex- imported from beyond the Spanish 

king of Portugal, who refused it : then frontier. 

h, the little Duke of Genoa, Prince of Eugenie loved Biarritz and made its 
the House of Savoy. For a few days fortune. Napoleon would never have 
the candidateship of this boyish duke, thought of going so far si. nth to build 
who was then at school at Harrow, in an Imperial residence ; but the Spanish- 
England, seemed to have some chance born Impiratrke made her Todos, as she 
in its favor. Castelar and the other Re- called him. build a beautiful palace by 
publicans informed their supporters that the southern sea. The mute from 
they might soon expect to see a king Biarritz winds over high hills, among 
brought t<> Madrid ; and then came the avenues of poplars, which cast their 
uprisings in Catalonia and in Andalusia, friendly shades to protect you from the 
and the splendid protest against king- glaring sun. Suddenly the beauty of 
ship at Saragossa and Valencia. lint the romantic coast of the Bay of Biscay 
here the movement was checked. Va- bursts upon the view. Pretty villas dot 
lencia. besieged and bombarded, had to the hills and peer out of luxuriant 
surrender at the end of nine days' vio- foliage. I found plenty of amusement 
lent battle, and Castelar, who. it is said, on the beach, in watching the Spaniards, 
had sccreth based his hopes upon the who went in to bathe with their cigars 
success of the insurrection, contented in their mouths, and who practised with 
himself, for a time, with the withdrawal much dexterity tin- art of keeping their 
of the proposition to make the Duke of heads unwet by the highest waves. 
Genoa king. Long trains of mules, loaded with 

Curious to see the revolution which screaming and laughing ladies, were 

I fancied would result in the definite driven into t be most furious part of the 

foundation of the Republic in Spain, I surf , and there the beauties amused them- 

crossed the Pyrenees, and was an eye- selves by holding on as long as they 

witness of many episodes of the combat, could against the incoming crests. Biar- 

Early in October, in 1869,1 left Paris, ritz is still a favorite resort for the 

where the Opposition to the Empire had French and Spanish aristocrats. The 

suddenly assumed formidable propor- railway scarcely disturbs the tranquil 

tions, and went to Madrid. Before en- seclusion of the place. Towards evening 

tering Spain 1 paused at Biarritz, where, a charming silence pervades the town; 

two years before, Bismarck had come to cool breezes blow inland; semi-tropical 

pay his 1 age to the Empress Eugenie, trees hide the green, delicately-veined 

It was still the bathing season in the insides of their leaves, not to turn them 

late southern autumn, and I sat down till the morrow's dew invites. The peas- 

upon the sand near the sleepy surf, and ants gather in groups, and softly sing 

watched the bathers coming and going, melodies in patois to the gentle music of 

singing merry songs, and gesticulating the guitar; and under the awning of the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



59 



green-latticed cafes the Spanish peddlers, 
who have trudged up from Burgos, or 
Valladolid, offer blankets, long knives 
with beautifully carved handles, and 
scent-bottles from Tangiers. 

On the Spanish coast at San Sebas- 
tian, where Dona Isabel went in her 







are no longer the same. The grave and 
earnest Basque, ignoranl but conscien- 
tious and virtuous, salutes the stranger 
with solemn courtesy. Here and there 
are touches upon a relic of the abortive 
campaigns of successive Dun Carloses. 
Priests saunter slowly by, smoking cigar- 
ettes, and lazily swinging theii 
umbrellas. The fields have a neg- 
lected look. San Sebastian is a 
delightful little city, coquettish, 
fresh, flooded with brilliant sun- 
light, set down at the base of lofty 
mountains whose peaks shine like 
blocksof crystal. It extendsfrom 
the pretty bay of La Concha., at 
the mouth of which is the island 
of Santa Clara, to the mouth of 
the Urremea river. Seaward from 




PROCLAIMING THE SPANISH REPUBLIC. 



flight, the sport of bathing goes on until 
even the first days of November. From 
Biarritz to San Sebastian is but an hour's 
ride by diligence, but in that hour the 
traveller feels as if he had in some un- 
accountable maimer left Europe behind 
him. Architecture has changed; the 
costumes of the people by the wayside 
are different ; manners, speech, gestures, 



the promontory of Bilbao to Biarritz one 
sees the waves lap the crags and masses of 
stone, whose yellow and reddish colors 
contrast strangely with the white foam 
dashing now and then over their summits. 
NearSan Sebastian one finds valleys I'ullof 
shade and mystery ; deep gorges through 
which bridle-paths wind in perplexing 
fashion; pinnacles from which ho i in 



60 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



look up ti> mightier pinnacles beyond. 
Priests, smugglers, muleteers, peasant- 
girls in red and yellow petticoats, gra- 
ciously salute the wanderer; and if one 
stops :it a roadside inn he is treated with 
utmost consideration and honesty. 

On this my first journey to Madrid, 
I thought the railway ran through one 
of the most picturesque and impressive 
countries in the universe. Just before 
arriving at Iran, the frontier town, archi- 
tecture had changed as rapidly as the 
combinations in a pantomime. The 
houses of southern Fiance, well built of 
solid carved stone and with four-cornered 
steep root's, were exchanged for the glar- 
ing white walls, generally out of repair, 
and the low and sloping roofs of Spanish 
dwellings. From [run to Burgos the 

scenery was of the wildest. The road 
traverses yawning valleys, runs along the 
edgi's of precipices, plunges into sombre 
anddeserted plains, winds through passes 
cut out of the solid rock, anil pierces the 
hearts of the mountains sixty-nine times 
before it reaches the environs of Madrid. 
Everywhere the beautiful has a mixture 
of rugged grandeur in it. Tunnel suc- 
ceeds tunnel, under great balustrades 
perched on rude, deep-ribbed layers of 
the hardest rock. Sometimes the railway 
line winds along an embankment which 
gives the traveller a glance up some tre- 
mendous defile, at the end of which blue 
ranges of mountains melt softly into the 
bluest sky. Through the defile winds a 
white strip of mad, fringed with foliage, 
and enlivened by a string of mules, car- 
rying merchandise to the nearest town. 
The posachis and haciendas are dirty, and 
the sills of the windows are stained with 
the refuse thrown carelessly out of doors ; 
the walls are hung with tobacco-stalks 
and Hags, and the pig reigns supreme in 
the front door. .Some of the mountain 
sides which ale cultivated are so steep 



that the donkey drawing the primitive 
plough has to press his feet and slide 
down the furrows, dragging plough and 
peasant after him. Agricultural imple- 
ments are of the simplest character. The 
plough is a straight piece of wood shar- 
pened at one end, and fastened roughly to 
a rude harness. Donkeys ami dwarf, 
yellow-colored oxen do all the work of 
teams. The shepherds along the road 
look two or three centuries out of place, 
as their costume has hardly undergone 
any change since the time of Philip II. 

I did not stop at Miranda or at Bur- 
gos on this journey; but in later years 
I learned to wonder at the incomparable 
richness of the facade of the Burgos 
cathedral, on every square on the walls 
of which are the marks of the geuius of 
the great sculptors of the thirteenth cen- 
tury ; and I could not help marvelling at 
the curious taste which placed this Cath- 
olic wonder in this arid country, where a 
cold wind, half the year, chills the very 
marrow. Approaching the environs of 
Madrid I was struck with the desolate 
character of the country. Here were 
pine forests ; huge rocks which overhung 
narrow paths along mountain sides ; 
caverns in which brigands might hide ; 
little torrents leaping over precipices 
close to the railway. Here were plains 
filled with rocks shaken into strangest 
forms by volcanic action, and high crags 
shutting out the sunlight. Shortly before 
arriving at the Escurial the route passes 
Las Navas, one of the vilest and mosl 
dangerous little places in Spain, as I 
found in an excursion from Madrid. 
The houses in Las Navas are built of 
coarse stone, rudely carved. Black s\n ine 
wander freely in and out of them. The 
people are grossly ignorant ; dozens of 
them confessed to me that they had 
never visited Madrid, that they knew 
nothing of politics, and as for reading 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



61 



and writing, they were not even ac- 
quainted with an}' one who possessed 
these extraordinary accomplishments. 
At Madrid, girls brown as Arabs of- 
fered to the traveller fresh milk in little 
clay pots. A hunter strolled by with a 
hare upon his shoulder, and proposed to 
sell it. A hare may lie had for ten cents. 



proceeds across the rocky and uninvit- 
ing country between the main Hue of 
rail to Madrid and the Escurial. Leav- 
ing the comfortable first-class carriages 
to plod across the waste is not very 
agreeable, but one is well repaid by the 
treasures within the walls. The shep- 
herds, beggars, and priests, who are 




THE ESCUKIAL, NEAR MADRID. 



A blight seems to overhang the whole 
country round about. As I wandered 
through these plains towards the frowning 
Escurial, one dark October day, I could 
not help thinking that a curse had fallen 
on the locality where Philip II. lived, 
prayed, and sang praises to the God 
whom he offended while he fancied him- 
self most zealously serving him. The 
impression of blight is heightened as one 



the only persons one encounters, answer 

questions civilly, and point out the cross 
perched on a high rock which marks 
the spot where Philip II. 's dreadful or- 
ders were carried out, where wretches 
were hanged almost daily beneath the 
lowest bit of rock. Until a few years 
past bits of whitened cord, which crum- 
bled as they were dug up, might still be 
found. 



(J2 



EUROTE JX STORM AND CALM. 



A winding road between high rocks, 
clothed in brown moss, leads one to a 
ruined square, where a dismantled church 
rears its forlorn front. A few steps up 
a steep hill, beside a wall, bring one to 
a point whence he can see the Escurial, 
with its immense dome, and the four 
gloomy towers rising at the angles. 
Philip II. built (his edifice in the mid- 
dle of the sixteenth century, to replace 
the church of Kan Lorenzo, which was 
demolished by cannon-balls during the 
siege of San Quentin. The cynical 
imagination of the over-religious archi- 
tects of the period could devise no 
better form for this immense monastic 
palace than that of the gridiron upon 
which the unhappy Lawrence suffered 
martyrdom. The four towers are sup- 
posed to represent the feet, and the royal 
apartments the handle, of this frying- 
instrument. Gloomy and unimpressive 
gardens stretch away on all sides to 
stone walls, which border greenish ponds 
and lakelets. 

The entrance to the edifice is wonder- 
fully impressive. A massive gate leads 
into the great gardens, bringing one face 
to face with a portico of severe simplic- 
ity. At the summit of Dorie columns 
are six mighty caryatids, representing 
the six Kings of Judea, supporting a tri- 
angular portal of immense size. ( hit of a 
block of granite the principal staircase is 
cut. The church, decorated with Luca 
Giordano's elating frescoes, reminds one 
of the many (anions freaks of which 
artists were guilty during the decadence 
of the Italian school. Luca's tranquil 
colors and highly executed designs 
show clearly the struggles of a great 
artist t<> rise above the follies and fail- 
ings of his epoch. The rich reliquaries; 
the delicately chiselled coffers in which 
repose the hones of saints ; the massive 
altar, built of jasper and marble, and 



surrounded with gilded bronze statues of 
Charles V. and Philip II. ; queens ami 
infantas, kneeling with closed hands and 
upturned eyes ; the stalls in precious 
woods; (he missals, lilled with Gothic 
vignettes ; heavily and coarsely decorated 
ceilings — produce an effect of confused 
magnificence. In the small chapel in the 
rear the eye is dazzled by Benvenuto 
Cellini's incomparable sculpture in white 
marble of " Christ upon the Cross." In 
the sacristy are innumerable paintings, 
which chill the imagination, but lead 
one to admire the artists. The painting 
by Claudio Coello, representing the pro- 
cession which received the Holy Host 
scui to Philip by the Emperor of Ger- 
many, is astonishingly rich in color. 

Wandering through a labyrinth of 
cold and gloomy corridors one at last 
reaches a little staircase by which he may 
climb to the dome of the Escurial and 
look oyer the vast plain. Ear away out 
of an indistinct mass of buildings rises 
the roof of the Royal Palace in Madrid. 
To the left one sees a dense forest, with 
a few straggling hamlets on its edge, 
and at the base of the monastic palace's 
thick and frowning walls lies a village, 
its precipitous streets paved with stones 
set on end. A few wretched trees strug- 
gle for existence in the market-place. 
At a stone fountain's basin, a, bevy of 
laughing girls are tilling water-jars, and 
some dejected-looking donkeys are 
greedily drinking and whisking their 
tails. 

The Pantheon of the Spanish Kings, 
the great vault of the Escurial, where 
lie the mortal remains of the mighty 
Charles, of Philip 11.. III., and IV., 
of Charles II. and Charles III., 
of (he Queens Isabella and Margaret, 
and Elizabeth of Bourbon, is an un- 
wholesome cellar, from which one is 
glad to escape into the open air. Even 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



63 



the sublime and pathetic figure of Christ, 
which surmounts one of the altars, seems 
to bring no ray of tender hope, no 
blessed promise of immortality, into this 
royal charnel-house. It is impressive 
and repulsive at once to look from the 
present into the past, as one does in 
peering into the sarcophagus of one of 
tii.. greatest of emperors. At the time 
of my visu one could see under the 
glass lid which sealed the coffin of 
Charles V. the body of the royal 
dead man, but partially covered by its 
shroud. The face was still in an al- 
most perfect state of preservation. One 
nostril and one of the ears, for the eyes 
had crumbled because of contact with 
the air, when the historic coffin was 
opened, were still visible, and fragments 
of the reddish beard still clung to the 
chin. Philip II. the Terrible is securely 
shut in a black marble sarcophagus, 
ornamented only by a plain plate bear- 
ing his name. One is curious to know 
whether the calm of death gave any 
sweetness to the imperious face of the 
monk and tyrant who scourged Europe 
in the bitterness of his malicious zeal. 

Seeing all his private apartments left 
just as they were when he passed into 
the silences, one almost fears to en- 
counter his spectre walking the narrow 



chambers, or seated in the niche which 
permitted him to hear mass without en- 
tering the chapel, muttering his prayers, 
and nursing his gouty limb, as he sup- 
ported it upon a velvet cushion. One 
could fancy him seated before his little 
wooden table, brooding over the papers 
containing secrets of the state, and 
could almost see his face with grayish- 
blue eyes, with thick and protruding 
uniler lips, with lean and bony cheeks 
covered with livid skin, with little ears 
which caught the slightest sound, with 
his ugly chin concealed beneath a sym- 
metrical beard ; or one seemed to see 
him musing in his quaint old chair, its 
back studded with copper nails, riveti d 
in the leathern bands ; and to watch him 
as his hands wander over the breast of 
his velvet doublet feeling for the chap- 
let, which so rarely quitted his person. 
This terrible mocking spectre of 
Philip the Tyrant seems to pursue the 
visitor as he roams through the museum. 
to which an uncivil monk grudgingly 
admits him to look at the paintings by 
Ribera, Jiordans, Bosch, and Tinto- 
retto, and does not quit him until he has 
gained the open air and left the village 
and the monaster}' of the Eseurial far 
behind him. 



64 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER SIX. 



In Revolution Time. — Savagossa. — A Quaint Old Spanish City. — The Protest against the Refistab- 

lishmeut of M trchy. — A Vigorous Fight. — The Church of the Virgin Del Pilar. — < in the 

Way to Valencia. — Down to the Mediterranean. — Alicante. — The Grao. —Getting into Valencia 
before the Bombardment. — An Adventurous Promenade. — Crossing the Streets under Fire.— 
A Barricaded ] Intel. — street Fighting in Earnest. — Republicans ami Regulars, 



MADRID is usually a disappoint- 
ment to the stranger. Saragossa 
isa revelation. The approaches to it are 
singularly beautiful. The train left me 
outside the walls, ami I walked through 
the olive-bordered avenues, finding with 
some difficulty the gate which led into 
the main part of the town. As T ap- 
proached this gate I at once perceived 
that the government had at last got an 
iron hand on Saragossa. The narrow 
and quaint streets were crowded with 
soldiers. Officers, in their glittering blue 
and red uniforms, passed up and down, 
reviewing little' squads of men, who. re- 
ceiving their orders, went out to parade 
to solemn drum-beats in certain sections. 
It was nine o'clock in the morning, but 
little movement was visible among the 
inhabitants. Sunburnt figures stood 
here and there beneath the Gothic and 
M ■ >• nish door-\\a\s talking quietly to- 
gether; but when more than half a 
dozen had gathered the soldiers arrived 
and dispersed them. When Saragossa 
"was tin 1 capital of the kingdom of Ara- 
gou the people manifested the same 
spirit that they had newly shown in this 
insurrection of 1869, in saying to their 
king, " We, wlto arc your equals and as 
powerful as you. elect you king on the 
condition that you guard our laws and 
our liberties, and that there shall always 
lie between you and us some one more 



powerful than you ; if not, we will not 
have you." The Aragonese of seven 
hundred years ago understood the value 
of constitutional liberty even better than 
those of to-day, and practised it more 
forcibly. When Augustus Csesar came 
to Spain he looked upon the then ob- 
scure little town as one destined to a 
famous place in history, and christened 
it Csesarea Augusta. This, in due time, 
the Goths, when they came to levy con- 
tributions on the then wealthy town, 
tailed Csesar Agosta ; and later came the 
Arabs, who softened the name into Sar- 
acosta, but who hardened the manners 
of the people until they were fittest rep- 
resentatives of the haughty rule of the 
Moors in Spain. 

So powerful was the city that Charle- 
magne himself trend iled when he had 
paused before her gates, ami, lifting the 
siege, went away still bleeding from 
the scratches received at Roucesvalles. 
Then came the Christian kings, slowly 
invading Navarre and Aragon, and at 
last, by their valor, they captured to 
Catholicism the Zaragoza (pronounced 
Tharagotha) of to-day. In the city 
there tire but few hints of modernism. 
such as here and there a noble square, or 
a promenade planted with trees and or- 
namented with statues, or a barrack, 
in which the soldiers just at this time 
were undulv numerous. But these few 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



65 



innovations of modernism were soon 
left behind. I plunged into a labyrinth 
of narrow streets, where overhanging 
roofs nearly kissed each other, and 
where, nevertheless, every house had its 
balconies in the upper stories. Antonio, 
smoking a cigarette on his balcony, could 
have tumbled the ashes into the dinner- 
plate of his neighbor, tranquilly eating 
under his awning across the way. The 
shops are all very primitive in their 
character, and some of them Oriental in 
their disdain of modern furniture. Many 
of the houses in the town are so old 
that they are propped up with huge 
beams. The great cathedral of Our 
Lady of the Pillar, known as one of the 
most celebrated Catholic shrines in the 
world, has shown much evidence of 
crumbling, and the devotees nearly died 
of fear lest it might fall during the 
cannonading of the October revolu- 
tion. The history of this church is most 
remarkable. All the inhabitants who 
believe in their religion believe also that 
" Our Lady of the Pillar" was founded 
by St. .lames, the traditional Santiago, 
forty years only after the beginning of 
this Christian era. The old legend is 
still preserved in these weirds: ••And 
Jesus said, ' My dearly beloved mother, 
I wish you to go to Saragossa, and order 
St. James to erect a temple in your 
honor, where you shall be invoked for 
all time.'" This divinely imposed duty 
St. James is supposed to have duly ac- 
complished before his famous pilgrimage 
to Jerusalem, and the church has grown 
to gigantic proportions from the acorn of 
the little chapel and pillar, on which the 
Virgin's figure was raised, so says the 
legend, eighteen hundred years ago. 
The dark-eyed women, as well as the 
lame, lousy, and dirty old beggars, of 
Saragossa all daily kiss a little piece of 
wood fixed in the cathedral wall, and 



said to be the only fragment left of 
the real pillar. Around this church, 
which stands not far from the banks 
of the Ebro, was some desperate fight- 
ing in this October struggle, and the 
blood-stains in several corners were still 
visible at the time of my visit. 

Here, as in Valencia and elsewhere, 
the collision between the peasantry, who 
had invaded the town, and the soldiers 
representing the monarchical govern- 
ment, was brought on exclusively by the 
demand of the soldiers that the peasants 
should lay down their arms. Most of 
the peasants had been successful in their 
determination to retain their weapons, 
and had retired with all the honors of 
war. But a few had been taken, and 
the picture of the march of these prison- 
ers through mute, solemn Saragossa 
clings in my memory. The people had 
postponed the festival annually held to 
honor their patron saint, because the 
aroma of blood still lingered over the 
town. At the very portals of their 
church were dark stains, telling of 
human sacrifices. At tin' Duke's gate 
curious crowds were lingering, wild- 
eyed, round the spot where a general 
and a dozen soldiers had fallen, pierced 
by the bullets fired by workmen from a 
priest's house. The government of 
General Prim was disdainfully releasing 
tin' few prisoners which it had taken. 
In front marched a dozen stalwart sol- 
diers bronzed, dirty, and tierce; behind 
straggled perhaps two hundred insurrec- 
tionists, their wives running beside them, 
embracing them or weeping in silent joy. 
A weird, fantastic set were these fellows, 
with a tinge of the old Arabic blood in 
their veins. The government had given 
them back their long knives, which were 
thrust in their sashes, or served to pin the 
knots of the gayly colored handkerchiefs 
which covered their heads. They shuffled 



66 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

forward to the grand plaza, and before tuuate lias not crept into this half- 
tin. 1 famous Convent of Jerusalem, where barbaric country. On the evening of the 
Spain's most beautiful daughters spend first uprising in Saragossa a party of 
their lives in honoring the Virgin, insane people were passing through the 
they were drawn up in grim order, streets with the straw which they had 
ragged as FalstafFs army. With dis- been taught to plait into mats and 
grace and with rage in their swarthy panniers. One of them, to whom I had 
faces they listened to the order which the honor of being presented during my 
forbade them, under heavy penalties, to stay in the town, bad been excited by 
take up arms again, and then shambled the news of the lighting, and had been 
away to the churches to kneel ami seen a number of times in the thick of 
silently pray for one more chance, the fray. 

Those of thi' inhabitants of Saragossa, More lighting was impossible in Sara- 
the veritable citizens of the city, who gossa. The soldiers swarmed every- 
had participated in the light, did not es- where, and I desired to press on to 
cape so easily. New arrests were eon- Catalonia. But the railway agents re- 
stantly going on, and, when I left, the fused :. ticket to Barcelona, saying that 
towns-people scarcely dared to open their the road was open only half-way. The 
shops. Nearly all the proud Aragonese rebels bad that very morning burned for 
who were wounded to the death in the the second time a railway bridge, and 
second day's fighting managed to crawl strolling bands along the line hail coin- 
to their houses and die at home, proud mitted numerous crimes. The last local 
of having saved their bodies from the trains had narrowly escaped stoppage, 
soldiers. One man, wounded in a and I was compelled to return to Madrid. 
dozen places, crawled on to the roof of Six of the revolutionary Saragossa news- 
his domicile, and maintained from it a papers had been suppressed ; the official 
deadly lire upon the soldiers until be journals gave only glaring lies about the 
had slain seven. When at last he felt insurrection, and I returned to the cap- 
death's hand at his throat he jumped ital convinced that all the interest now 
down into the street, falling heavily centred on Barcelona and Valencia. 
upon the piled-up stones, and was used At Madrid the news from Valencia 
as an additional breastwork or a barri- was meagre. The sweet Mediterranean 
cade for his companions. This barri- town, the city of the Cid, surrounded by 
cade, near the Duke's gate, resisted the lovely gardens and luxuriant fields, was 
fire of artillery for nearly two hours, known to be in the hands of the in- 
These same men who leaped upon the surrectionists, and the authorities had 
cannons, knife in hand, when they were threatened a siege. Every morning a 
forced t<, retreat to tin- barricades, perturbed crowd waited at the railway 
heaped 141 the stones and beams as fast station to hear the news, and each day 
as they were torn down by the shots. they retired unsatisfied. Prim had 
Al Saragossa it is the custom, as in suppressed even private telegrams. The 
some parts of the Orient, to allow luna- journals were ominously silent, but the 
tics, who are not positively uncontrol- military trains were laden. " Impossi- 
lable. to wander about the streets, mill- ble to go there by rail," said one. " Im- 
gling freely with the sane. The custom possible to go at all," said another. 
of making prisoners of Cod's unfor- " Bombarded two days ago." said those 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



67 



who should have been well-informed. 
'■ In possession of the insurgents," still 
asserted the equally reliable. This much 
was known: The rebels were at least 
eighteen thousand strong in a city of two 
hundred thousand people; had taken the 
great market-place ; had installed them- 
selves therein, and refused to be ousted. 
What were they? A mad mass of infu- 
riated towns-people, who by stratagem 
had possessed the greater part of the 
town, torn up the pavements, and re- 
fused to yield. Headed by the republican 
deputy Guerrero, they were well armed 
and equipped. At first eight thousand 
troops had gone forward, next twelve 
thousand, — many said sixteen thousand, 
— under General Alamenos. I took the 
evening train for ICuciua, whence a 
branch line leads to Valencia. 

The memories of the next few days 
rise vividly before me. I can see the 
mass of , --taring faces at the railway sta- 
tion, as, iu company with him of famous 
Abyssinian and African prestige, whose 
name is like a perfume to all lovers of 
journalistic enterprise, I take my place 
in the night express, bound for the shores 
of the Mediterranean. This is my first 
meeting with Stanley, and a strange one, 
with the spirit of competition lightly 
roused, so as to firing into our acquaint- 
ance just that spice of jealousy which 
makes us both alert. Iu the train are 
parents, and husbands, and brothers 
going to Valencia, to bring loved ones 
away from the horrors which are always 
associated with a Spanish siege. So we 
fare forward, past Aranjuez, where there 
is a noble royal residence and town, to 
Albacete. As morning dawns, with that 
glorious poetry of sky only known in 
Spain, we i ome into the wonderful region 
of paradoxes between Albacete and Al- 
mansa. Imagine fertile fields stretching 
miles along the railway line, but framed 



in the backgrounds by mountains barren 
as the pyramids, acclivities that rise 
superb above yawning precipices. 

The vineyards are numerous, and dark- 
haired, bare-limbed women are plucking 
the purplish-blue clusters of grapes from 
dwarf vines, that bend heavily under the 
pressure of the vintage. At many points 
huge rocks, rising in perpetual affront 
to heaven, are crowned with castles, 
which, in the sun's golden haze, seem to 
melt their outlines into the net-work of 
nature, and to be but a freak of her fancy. 
The well-made roads, smooth, white, 
and suffocatingly dusty, trend away in 
serpentine curves to the liases of the 
mountain rocks, and are bordered at long 
distance by low houses, whose white walls 
and tiled roofs glitter in the sun. The 
muleteers and the peasant women are 
singing, or rather droning, while they 
ride or work, and naked children dispor: 
in the glow of the morning without 
shame. The costume of the peasants 
along the route is at first quiet in color 
and sober in arrangement; but, as we 
draw towards the south and the sea, it is 
scarlet, and green, and yellow, in glaring 
contrast, and falling in graceful folds 
close to the form. 

At seven in the morning we come to 
Encina, a small junction just below the 
hug' town of Almansa, where the Va- 
leucian railway blanches off. Here there 
are hordes of soldiers, and on the moun- 
tains we can see the vigilantes protecting 
the railway. The wild-looking peasants 
come up with sneering curiosity, if any 
inquiry be made about Valencia, to say 
that the Republicans have captured it 
long ago, and that they will never sur- 
render. But the railway to Valencia is 
not in order. No trains have passed for 
several days, and skirmishing along the 
line is frequent. Is there no way to send 
a message, or to go to Valencia? Yes ! 



68 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



We may go to Alicante, and :iloiig the 
Mediterranean coast; from Alicante a 
Bteamer will sail that afternoon. So we 
take a wheezy train upon the branch 
railway, and arc soon among the palm- 
trees. Towards ten o'clock we pass into 
a huge ravine between two ledges of jag- 
ged rock, the railway running on a nar- 
row bank. Weseebeyond, attheopening, 
a bridge over a yawning chasm and a 
host of figures clustering around it. The 
train comes to a halt. The engineer 
goes back to talk to the guard, and half 
an hour is lost before it is decided that 
the figures must hi' those of soldiers 
rather than of insurgent enemies. We 
move slowly into the midst of a company 
of the civil guard, who have improvised a 
habitation of boughs at the bridge's side, 
ami are watching the structure night and 
day. At last, as we are leaving a little 
station among the mountains, we turn a 
curve, and before us lies the placid Med- 
iterranean, iis purple water rippling softly 
to the shores, and in the distance is a 
huge acclivitv, around whose top hovers a 
glorious breezy wreath of mist. — one of 
those fragrant heaven breaths, to which 
only the waves of the Mare Tyrrhenum 
cequor can give shape and substance. 

Below lies Alicante in the slumbrous 
noon. Alone' the coast, where the sleepy 
surf comes rolling slowly in, are groves 
of palm. Barelegged fishermen are push- 
ing out their boats. The long quay, 
guarded by soldiers, runs out to sea ; and 
at the base edge towers a gigantic rock 
with its antique Moorish citadel. Here 
we find that the boat will leave for Va- 
lencia at three o'clock, also that the fight- 
ing has Keen brisk there for the last two 
days ; now a surrender is talked of. 
Meantime, in the port, we find a noble 
hark, of American build, the William 
Wilcox of New York, commanded by 
Philip Johnson, of New Bedford ; and, 



visiting it, receive gracious attention 
from the stanch captain and his young- 
wife, whose first trip beyond seas is to 
agitated Spain. 

As we steam out of the port that after- 
noon, in a boat crowded with Spanish 
officers going to the front, the American 
banner flutters up to the mast-head of 
the William Wilcox ami down again in 
graceful salute to us, much to the aston- 
ishment of all the olive-complexioned, 
jauntily uniformed Spaniards round 
alioiit us. Next morning the boat is 
lying in the harbor of Valencia. 

The Grao, Valencia's port of entry, is 
three miles from the city itself, and has 
a well-sheltered harbor, with a. little town 
built along its banks. We hind at seven 
o'clock, and find the streets crowded 
with men, women, and children, whom 
fright has forced out of Valencia. The 
carriages which usually run from the 
port to the city are drawn ii[> in a long 
line, near the avenue leading to the en- 
trance, and it is with difficulty that we can 
prevail on the driver to take us so far as 
the outer line of the siege. "The thing 
is to commence at eight," he says. '• We 
should hardly reach there before then, 
aud we might be shol by the insurrectos." 
For eight days the fighting has been 
growing more severe daily. Who are 
masters of the situation? The insur- 
rectos, decidedly. 

We drive up a long avenue bordered 
with sycamores. On our way we pass 
many women weeping bitterly, anil bend- 
ing almost double under the hastily 
prepared burdens of their household 

g Is. This seems to indicate that the 

bombardment is beginning, and the hare 
suggestion of this so frightens our driver 
that he refuses to go farther, and. turn- 
ing his horse's nose to the hedge, invites 
us to get out. Nothing can persuade 
him, and we find ourselves in a hubbub 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



69 



of cavalry and infantry, teams loaded 
with furniture, going out under flags of 
truce, and hundreds of people sitting by 
the roadside, their faces turned in listen- 
ing attitude towards the town. A com- 
pany <>f Lancers gallops up to us, gives us 
a suspicious glance, and passes on. Fi- 
nally we are told to ask permission of a 
certain officer to pass into the town. He 
shrugs his shoulders to his ears, spreads 
out his hands, says lie will not hinder us, 
and we pass in, carrying our own baggage. 
Our first idea is to seek the Fonda de 
Paris, — a well-known hotel, standing in 
the Calle del Mar (the street of the sea) , 
where we think we can learn how far it 
will be safe for us to go. We look for 
some oue to take our baggage, and show 
us the way ; tint every person appealed 
to makes a frightened face, says that the 
tiring has begun, and that it is unsafe. 
The suspense of waiting in this mass of 
humanity is unbearable. At last we 
appeal to a dare-devil-looking boy, who, 
without comments, takes up tin- travel- 
ling-bags, and goes forward. We are 
continually jostled by soldiers, running 
from poiut to point, dodging behind cor- 
ners, casting suspicious glances at win- 
dows or balconies above. We have now 
entered a labyrinth of narrow streets, 
like those I had seen at Saragossa. The 
brave boy, who runs ahead of us, bend- 
ing under the weight of our baggage, 
stops short, and compresses his lips, as 
he hears a sharp thud around the comer, 
and sees the soldiers rushing back. We 
are in the midst of a guerilla warfare, 
where shots are fired from balconies and 
from house-tops; where a chance bullet 
may meet us, and semi life vaporing 
before we can defend ourselves. From 
time to time the boy halts, says huskily, 
" Fiit'tjn" (firing), and then, like a little 
lion at bay, turns anew to seek another 
route to the Fonda de Paris, 



At last we come into a long, narrow 
avenue, leading to a square. Sud- 
denly we are pulled into a door by a 
friendly citizen, and the boy turns pale; 
but my companion, who has seen battles 
numerous, trampson ahead, and we follow. 

We arrive in tie- si pun.'. We hear 
the dull roar away up in the city, and 
the ping of wandering bullets. People 
follow us with their gaze; but, at the 
entrance of another long avenue, we 
hear above us, at the windows, hands 
softly clapped, and soft hisses. Again 
the boy turns, almost crying with fright 
and determination. We cross the square ; 
we try another street, and push on des- 
perately. We hear shooting close at 
hand. We enter still another square. 
Here great preparations are going on. 
Soldiers crowd the side opposite us, but 
there is one yawning gap, — the entrance 
to a street, which no one enters, and no 
one stands in front of. We are in the 
Plaza de la Congregacion. A soldier 
stares at us. lie sees we are foreigners, 
and says, in broken French, " Grand 
Wan I Don't go across the square, or 
you will be shot." Put while lie is talk- 
ing my comrade and the boy step bravely 
across the square, and I rush after them. 
A soldier at the corner raises his musket 
warningly. What is it? Something be- 
yond the corner. 

A barricade ! 

To reach the hotel we must brave this 
barricade. We cannot stay in the street, 
so we make three leaps ; and, as Stanley 
turns the corner of the little avenue 
which leads behind the hotels, three bul- 
lets fly past, and strike in the Valencia 
Bank windows. We are hurried into a 
back door, amid a crowd of soldiery. 
and a little French landlord comes for- 
ward to congratulate us on our escape; 
for the insurgents had sworn to shoot 
am' one who crossed that street. 



70 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

We press the poor boy's hand, and by a Republican deputy lately withdrawn 

cannot but admire him. He takes shel- from the Cortes. In and around the 

ter with ns for a short time. town are ten thousand irregular troops, 

This incident illustrates well the manner General Alamenos commanding. Don 

of the siege, and the struggle which has Francis de la Riviera, captain-general, 

been in progress seven days when wo is a vacillating old man, full of much 

arrive; not a siege with artillery at long caution. The sub-commandant, Don 

distance, nor one where lines are dis- Martin Rosalcs, is energetic, so says 

tinctly drawn, but one where every street our landlord ; adding that the fighl which 

and house are beleaguered. This ave- has lasted so long may continue for 

nue, for instance, is narrow, long, and weeks, or, so strange are the caprices 

straight. At its end is a barricade, and of insurrection in Spain, may be ended 

in tin' houses on each side are at least in ten minutes. 

six hundred soldiers. This is repeated The Republicans here, as in Saragossa, 

two or three streets further on ; but away are mostly pajanos, or peasants. They 

up in the city's centre, in the great mar- are all of one type, with swarthy faces. 

ket-place, and the twenty-eight streets olive complexions, strong limbs, and are 

leading from it, the Republicans hold clad in a curious costume, trousers reach- 

evcrvthing. Long-range shooting is all ing only to the knee, long hose, and san- 

that they have to fear. Every private dais of undressed hide. A handkerchief 

house is a fortress, insurgent or govern- is bound about their heads, and huge 

mental. The landlord takes us over the blankets of brilliant coloring arc slum: 

hotel, shows us furniture riddled with lml- across their shoulders. They never wear 

lets, and his mattresses all in use, to pro- coats, hats, or boots, and are so sun- 

teet the soldiers who occupy his balconies, burnt that they look like their African 

The' side windows look on the barricade, neighbors, or like the Apaches of our 

and near them soldiers are crouching American plains. 

expectant. This is in the first story. The barricades are only shoulder high, 

In the next still more destruction: mir- made of a double row of paving-stones, 

rot's smashed, curtains in shreds, and and protected at the top by a few beams 

tables in fragments. We are given a and well-filled sacks of sand or grain, 

room on the third floor, fronting on the But there are so many, each corner being 

street we have just crossed. We open made a va liable, that even were the sol- 

our window cautiously, and look across diery to reduce one, as. for instance, this 

the way. The large stone building is the before our street, they would have to 

Yalencian Credit Institution. Soldiers take twenty, forty, or fifty behind it be- 

are firing from the balcouies of this bank, fore they could possess the town. The 

and dodging the bullets from the bam- dull, dead roar, that breaks in now and 

cade. In tin 1 square below, through then on the comparative silence at each 

which we have just come, a regiment end of Valencia, comes from the outside, 

is quietly arriving. whence General Alamenos is throwing 

The Valeiiciaii Republicans, including shell into a barricade. Now and then a 

the mountaineers, who have comedown shot from a rebel cannon comes whizzing 

from their homes to protest against the into the square, on which we can look, 

restoration of monarchy, are from twelve and we can see confusion among the sol- 

to fifteen thousand strong, commanded diers, and sometimes a faintly palpitat- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



71 



ing mass, from which surges life-blood, 
staining the canvas thrown over it. By 
and by a great number of troops are 
massed in the plaza, and we hear inces- 
sant bullet-tiring from the adjacent bar- 
ricade. In the square the buglers are 
sounding the charge, and Prim's Hunters 
— the scum of Madrid, vet the most dar- 
ing soldiery in Spain : reckless devils in 
dirty uniforms, with straw sandals to 
their stockingless feet — come up slowly 
into line. Other companies fall in be- 
hind, and it is plain that we are to have 
a battle. All this time the soldiers do 
not face death at the barricade in our 
street. They mass together in front of 
the college in the plaza, ami two bat- 
talions go charging towards the centre 
of the town. Those who come running 
back wounded bring stories of the bar- 
ricades. Irresolute, all go on. The 
government volunteers, the small por- 
tion of the mountaineers who have not 
taken part in the insurrection, have been 
captured in a body, and their noses have 
been cut oft', their ears slit, ami their 
bodies piled on the barricades. So the 
survivors come back trembling with fear, 
bearing their dead, on litters and crossed 
muskets, and it is getting gradually 
towards dusk. 

As the church clocks are striking 
seven the senior bishop of the diocese 
and some of the city authorities go to 
General Alamenos with a flag of truce, 
ami pray for some arrangement to stay 
the How of blood. The commission is 
received with the greatest kindness by 
Alamenos; but in their passage through 
the streets the would-be peacemakers are 
saluted with hisses from many of the bar- 
ricades. No arrangement is reached, 
and the commission goes back late in the 
evening, mortified and alarmed. So we 
must wait the morrow in our fortress. 



and meantime get a retrospect of the 
seven previous days. 

As soon as the order commanding 
the restoration of arms by the Republi- 
cans to the military authorities is made 
Guerrero, the Republican seceder from 
the Cortes, visits the captain-general, and 
tells him that he must be responsible for 
any acts of violence provoked by the 
order. The barricades rise as if by 
magic, and four attacking columns, 
formed by the military authorities, on 
the next morning, the 8th of October, 
start by different routes for the great 
market-square, w T here the insurrection- 
ists are in possession. The troops suf- 
fer severely by the hostile lire from the 
houses along the way, and are almost 
inclined to retreat. But they succeed in 
placing artillery in another square, that 
of Santa Catalena, not far from the mar- 
ket, and demolish one barricade. Upon 
this the sharp-shooters pick off the 
officers until there is absolutely none left 
to command, and the artillery retreat in 
disorder. 

A second attack follows, for the gov- 
ernment forces are confident of easy vic- 
tory ; but they arc soon convinced to 
the contrary. A bravo meets the 
colonel of the first advancing regi- 
ment, and discharges a revolver into 
his face. Irregular tiring then begins 
from the houses on all sides, and a sec- 
ond retreat follows. Yet the same col- 
umns finally rally and get possession of 
the telegraph offices, not far from the 
Bourse; from thence they traverse the 
streets behind the market under an ap- 
palling fire from windows ami from the 
roofs. They succeed in occupying one 
or two of these streets, but soon find 
themselves besieged instead of besiegers, 
as the Republicans have shut them in on 
every side. 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



CHAPTER SEVEN. 



The Nine Days' Fight in Valencia. — Alamenos and the Bombardment. — The Insurgents and their 
Tactics. — Departure of the Consuls. -Picturesque and Romantic Episode. -An Interrupted 
Breakfast. Meeting of the Brothers. — The End of the Struggle. -Scenes in the Market-place.— 
In the Cathedral after the Battle. — Castelar and his Endeavors for Liberty.- -Spanish Politics 
since 1869. — Spanish Characteristics. — The Heligious Passion Plays. — The Sublime and the 
Ridiculous in Religion. 



THE third struggle, on the 8th of Oc- 
tober, occurs when six companies 
attempt to occupy the theatres and to 
approach the market. The seventh de- 
tachment, ('(insisting' of two hundred 
men, comes up an hour afterwards, — the 
artillery firing over them, — to carry by 
assaull two barricades in the small streets 
lending into the market. The battle 
continues after dark, and is horrible. 
Seventy-five or eighty soldiers are killed 
(luting the last half-hour, and this awa- 
kening the authorities to the fact that 
resistance to the death is determined on, 
they draw off the badly cut-up troops, 
and concentrate them during the night 
at ten different points, four of which are 
in the immediate neighborhood of the 
Fonda de Paris, and a fifth, the Fonda 
itself. It, is said that there wore eight 
hundred soldiers killed ill the first day's 
fighting. 

This may be exaggerated, although 

the American consul thought he could 
verify it The 9th brings no lighting. 
bill irregular firing all day, the troops 
being too much disorganized to move. 
• >n the 10th couriers are sent to Ali- 
cante and to Madrid to demand re- 
inforcements, and the slaughter by the 
firing from both sides is kept up irregu- 
larly until evening, when large reinforce- 
ments arrive. ( )n the 11th forces pour 
in by steamers and march over the 



broken rail routes. They are fought 
desperately on the outskirts of the city, 

and there is much slaughter. The TJth, 
13th. and llth see no actual encounter, 
hut on the night of the li'th a party of 
daring Republicans having attempted a 
surprise, they are fallen on and massa- 
cred. < )n the 1-ltli Alamenos, receiving 
extensive reinforcements, is ready for 
the reduction of the city. Then comes 
the Peace Commission on the 15th, as 
alluded to. 

Sixty officers were killed in the seven 
days before our arrival, and many of 
them were great losses to the Spanish 
army. Prim's volunteers and one or 
two other fine regiments were badly cut 
up. I saw. after the surrender, a group 
of them pointing out the ambuscade 
where several of their comrades had been 
killed. And we had arrived at the ninth 
day of this terrible episode of civil war. 

All night the insurgents watch in the 
barricades ; all night the soldiers sleep on 
their arms. Alamenos has got the tele- 
graph working to Madrid, and its tem- 
porary station erected in a bull-ring, and 
receives news that fresh troops will be 
on hand in the morning. New pleas for 
caution come from the timid Cortes in 
Madrid ; but the generals now announce 
as sure to take place at ten o'clock on the 
ninth day, if surrender is not accom- 
plished by that time, the bombardment 



EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



T,\ 



o 
> 





< 

> 

M 
*i 

o 




74 



EUROPE IX storm AND CALM. 



which was threatened when we arrived. 
AN e can now go <'ii our balconies with 
little fear; hostilities are by mutual con- 
sent .suspended after sunset. The rough 
mountaineers throw themselves on the 
sands and sleep, and the soldiers of the 
government are only too glad of respite. 
An odor of dead bodies is perceptible on 
the night air. For eight days the streets 
have not been cleaned; and in many 
places bodies are lying in heaps as they 
fell. Now and then a strange light 
flares up the sky over towards the mar- 
ket-place. It comes from some burning 
house fired by the troops. In the pale 
moonlight we sometimes catch a gleam 
of the white folds of a flag of truce, pre- 
ceding a load of household stores ; some- 
times a white-bonneted sister of charity 
glides by, bearing a heavy bundle of 
lint and bandages. In the j>1h;ji the 
old captain-general sits, near the foun- 
tain, smoking, and earnestly discussing 
the situation with a few officers. 

We sleep soundly that night ; even the 
tramp of soldiers through the corridors 
does not awaken us. Morning dawns, 
fiery-red, warm, almost airless. At 
seven we look out. As far as we can 
see, nothing but compact masses of 
soldiers. The commotion is intense. 
Ah ! there is the British flag, upheld by 
the English consul. The English resi- 
dents are leaving the town in proces- 
sion, under a flag of truce. The consul 
shakes the captain-general's hand, and 
bids him farewell. Presently come the 
women anil children. Each one bears 
those of their household possessions 
which the) can ill-afford to leave behind. 
By and by the French consul comes to 
our hotel f«>r the delegation of Frenchmen 
who wish to leave. The bombardment is 
to begin in half anhour. From the bank 
opposiie. officers look out and direct 
their men. Bugles sound everwhere. 



The deadly street is vacant once more. 
Flags of truce now appear, and it is ap- 
parent that a parley is going to lie held. 
Crash! a tremendous volley breaks 
from the barricade. Suddenly several 
prisoners are brought into the square, 
and kicked brutally along towards the 
prison. It is eight o'clock, and the first 

flag of truce is to be sent to the barri- 
cades. An officer commands a soldier 
to go forward with the white emblem of 
conciliation. The man hesitates. " An- 
da !" (< io on ! ) . says the officer, striking 
him with his sword-hilt . At last the man 
moves. A bullet whizzes past him : still 
he goes on. He is met half-way up the 
street by a tall, swarthy youth with 
coal-black flowing hair. The two wind 
the flag, which is a sheet, around their 
shoulders, ami thus insurgent ami be- 
sieger, with true Spanish sense of the 
graceful and aesthetic, come back together 
to the square. 

The rebel bows gracefully to the offi- 
cers, listens to the terms proposed, — 
'•surrender without conditions," — un- 
winds himself out of the sheet, and turns 
on his heel to go back. As soon as he 
reaches the barricade defiance in flame 
and bullets bursts from the rifles of the 
men. 

Another truce; and now it is again 
announced that if surrender is not ef- 
fected at ten o'clock bombardment will 
be continued until every stone is blown 
from every barricade. At. the same 
time a charge of" five thousand troops is 
arranged to come up through each 
street. The thunder in the market-place 
grows louder and louder. 

We wait anxiously until ten. The 
insurgents are now firing round shot, 
and chips of stone, heavy enough for 
two men to lift, fly from the Yalencian 
Bank's handsome front. Despite these 
formidable missiles the fat old sub-corn- 



EUh'OPE IiV STORM AND CALM. 



7. r ) 



mandant walks across the street, shield- 
ing his belt so that the rebels cannot see 
it, buttoning his coat, and waving an- 
other white Hag. It seems almost as if 
we were the besieged. 

But the sappers and miners, although 
we do not know it, are getting into the 
town's centre, and if we could get news 
in our hostelry, we should learn that 
eight hundred or one thousand insurgents 
have already fled. Alamenos therefore 
counsels his artillery-men to have 
patience. At eleven an attack is or- 
ganized in our square, and just as we 
are wild with excitement, in anticipation 
of a battle under our very noses, there 
is a knock at our door. Are we to be 
compelled to fly? 

No, indeed ! It is the cheeky little 
French landlord, pen in hand, saying, 
" Gentlemen, breakfast is ready." 

In the barricaded dining-room one 
window is open, and through it we see 
at least one thousand soldiers crowding 
through a big hole. We snatch some 
bread and wine, and rush back to our 
rooms to hear and see what we may. A 
wild rush of soldiery, a sound like rapid 
hammering on some hollow substance, are 
followed by cheers too tremulous to be in- 
spiring, but rather husky ; and, horrified, 
we look out at the risk of our heads. 
The charge is over : the soldiers have 
vanished up a side street. They could 
not take the barricade in front. Six 
men there could keep sis hundred at 
bay, and the bloody litters coming back 
testify to the steadiness of the aim of 
those mountaineers who boast that they 
can kill a pigeon with a rifle-ball. 

Again a lull. One, two, three 
o'clock! At least twenty Hags of truce 
have been exchanged. Why does not 
the bombardment begin in earnest? All 
at once, as the hour of four approaches, 
there is a simultaneous rush of people 



and soldiers from the square. The sun- 
burnt fellows in the windows opposite 
us brandish their guns with Spanish 
enthusiasm. Can it be that the town 
has surrendered? The barricade is 
covered with soldiers, hut they are not 
fighting. Heaven and earth cannot keep 
the curiosity of mortals suppressed in 
such a case. We rush downstairs. The 
insurgents at the barricade have sur- 
rendered, — conditions, that they be 
allowed to go free ; and the soldiers are 
knocking down the stones with the butts 
of their muskets. We go out and are 
borne along in the press, reaching the 
spot which, twenty minutes before, live 
thousand soldiers could not have faced. 
A rare and dramatic incident, not with- 
out its frequent parallel in our own civil 
war, is the cause of surrender here. 
The soldiers make the attack, and arc 
falling rapidly, when the leader of the 
insurgents hears a familiar voice. lb' 
leaps forward and stands amid the 
whistling bullets. His brother, whom 
he has not seen for eight years, is calling 
to him. That brother's voice brings the 
black-haired insurrectionist to the ground 
outside the barricade. He leaps among 
the soldiers, elasps his brother in his 
arms, and weeps and laughs by turns. 
The insurgents stand irresolute, and the 
key-note of the siege and surrender of 
Valencia has been struck. The govern- 
ment soldier tells his brothel', captain of 
the insurgents, to withdraw his men and 
they shall all go free. " I myself," says 
he, with a charming lack of discipline, 
"will respond for their liberty." The 
two brothers, arm in arm, sit down upon 
the curb-stone to look each other in the 
face, and to recover their senses. 

The word that the outer barricade has 
surrendered lias passed up into the town, 
yet there is a violent resistance at the 
next one beyond. When we reach it, 



76 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

at half-past four, the soldiers arc lmild- stones on the barricades have their 

ing fires to burn out the bl< od-stains. mouths filled with bread. 

Carefully we go round corners, where a At an angle in the market-place is a 

few in. uni'iit s before we had heard little street where a sharp corner had 

firing, only ti> see the proud Republican been availed of as a chance for a very high 

peasants marching away with their heads barricade. Peering through a rent in it 

erect, and their rifles tightly grasped in I see a most affecting scene : an old man. 

their hands. At times that day the neatly dressed, is standing in the midst 

market-place of Valencia had been a hell of the insurgents, who have just thrown 

upon earth. At live in the afternoon down their arms, clasping the hands of a 

we are standing among the insurgents slight hoy. whose face is pale with ex- 

in its centre, and not a shot is fired, citement. Ar 1 the boy's head is 

The Exchange is filled with temporary wound a red handkerchief. On the 

prisoners, who can hardly he persuaded ground lies a huge cavalry revolver, to 

to lay down their anus; but as fast as which the boy is pointing with e r xcited 

they do deliver them up the soldiers gestures. The old man is crazy to get 

take them, and pile them in the cellars his loved on< — son, or ward, or employ^ 

of the strongest houses. The mountain- — out of the horrible place, and urges him 

eel's are not to lie urged to surrender to retire, while the little fellow insists 

their rifles, as they might renew the upon lingering to tell the story of his 

struggle if pressed too hard for con- battle. 

ditions. The grand old church of San Blood runs afresh in the market-place, 

Juan is frightfully scarred and torn, but it is now from the butchers' cleavers. 

The huge portal over the statue of the Half-starved people surround the stands 

Virgin is rent almost in twain. The in the meat-market, and stalwart fellows 

scattered trees in the market-place are slay, and cut, and cut again, until they 

cut in two. A wooden building is as are exhausted. "On Sunday." says 

full of holes as a sieve. The great the merchant accompanying us, •• the 

fountain is almost ruined. There are same insurrectionists who have fought 

ten or fifteen barricades in a straight line here will conic in market-carts to offer 

through tin 1 place. The streets radiat- their farm produce at the high price 

ing fromitare very narrow, and each one caused by tin 1 insurrection." 

is doubly and trebly fortified. It seems I have dwelt thus upon this nine 

as if no force could have ever taken days' insurrection in Valencia, because it 

the position without fust destroying the is in a certain way typical of all the 

town 1 >v shell. civil struggles which occur in Spain, in 

The citizens, so long imprisoned, its picturesque features; but also be- 

those in the centre not having been able to cause it is entitled to a place in history, 

fly from the expected bombardment, run as being founded upon a vigorous pro- 

to and fiei. The first thought of the in- lest against kingship. It was too full 

surgents seems to be for food. They of dignity at its outbreak to he consid- 

almost crush the bakers who dare to ered as a mere riot, and too grand and 

open their shops. Many soldiers share thrilling towards its close to be called 

their rations with them. Howtheinsur- even a battle. There were more than 

gents managed to live for nine days is a one thousand people killed during the 

mystery. Soldiers [lulling down the nine .lays' fighting, and three times that 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



77 



Dumber seriously wounded. The Repub- 
licanos quite astonished the Monarchists, 

who fancied that they could so easily 
reestablish what they consider the natu- 
ral order of things after the uprising of 
18G8. These simple peasants awed and 
astonished the constitutional govern- 



cians can never be forgotten. Alamenos 
could have crushed them with bombs; 
but lie could never have taken the town 
so long as they remained alive. Their 
protest over, they withdrew with that 
dignity which is one of the imposing 
elements in the Spanish character. On 




MOUNTAINEERS (iOINO HOME AFTER THE SIEGE. 



ment. They neither sacked nor wantonly 
injured the beautiful Valencian mansions, 
some of which are almost fairy-like in 
their gorgeous splendor, with fronts of 
alabaster, carved in ornate and fantastic 
designs, and with marble, jasper, por- 
phyry, precious or costly stones, in their 
interior decorations. As a sublime 
democratic protest against monarchy of 
anv hue the struggle of these Valen- 



the morning after the surrender we saw 
regiments marching into the mountains, 

and were told that great numbers of 
arrests would be made. But we fancied 
that our lively friends, who hail done so 
well behind the barricades, would know 
how to get out of the reach of Alamenos 
and his men when their feet were on 
their native heaths. 

Castelar was not discouraged at the 



78 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

failure of the revolution which he had '-'1st of December, 1872, that Castelar 

been instrumental in fomenting A made his great speech in favor of the 

brief sketch of his political career and abolition of slavery in the Spanish pos- 

of Spanish politics from those wild days sessious. This, and his address on the 

of 1869 until the advent of Alfonso may liberty of public worship, mentioned else- 

liot be Out of place here. Castelar eon- where, are enough to make any orator's 

tinued to sit in the Cortes, where he was memory immortal. 

one of the most, formidable members of In 1873 the Republic had a second 
the opposition to the reactionary policy triumph. King Amadeo abdicated, and 
of the Regent Serrano. In the troubles Republican institutions were proclaimed 
which came upon France in consequence by a great majority in the Cortes. The 
of her indiscreet interference in the can- ministry in which Castelar held the port- 
didateship of the Prince Leopold Von folio < f foreign affairs was at once 
Hohenzollern for the throne of Spain, named. From this time forward until 
Castelar manifested his Republican sym- the last days of 1874 Castelar and his 
pathies in the most, straightforward followers seemed likely, as the result 
and uncompromising manner. When he of the vigorous revolutions of 18G8 and 
heard of the revolution which broke out 1869, definitely to matt Republican insti- 
in Paris after the fall of Sedan, and tutions upon the Spanish nation. The 
which resulted iii the declaration of the year of 1873 was highly encouraging to 
Republic, he drew up and signed with the Liberals throughout the country. A 
Republican minority in the Cortes anad- counter-revolution was prepared with 
dress which was sent to the government much dexterity, but it was thwarted by 
of National Defense, saluting in it the the vigor of the Republicans. Castelar 
triumph of law and the inauguration of repeatedly risked his own life by his 
a new era of peace and liberty for all courageous intervention in tumultuous 
Europe. In the following October he public Catherines. In the spring of 1873 
even went to Tours, where Gambetta he had laid before the country the pro- 
and Gai-ibaldi had arrived nearly worn gramme, and in this programme the 
out after their desperate endeavors to ministry declared for complete deeen- 
organize the defence in the South. At, tralization, suppression of Church and 
Tours Castelar made a great speech, as- State, the abolition of slavery, modifioa- 
suring the French of the sympathy of t ion of the abuses in recruiting in the 
Republican Spain. Like Victor Hugo army, and improvement of the adminis- 
he has always cherished the dream of a tration of justice. Castelar and his col- 
federal union, a United States of Europe, leagues then resigned, believing that they 
which is not likely to be realized in our could be of more use as simple deputies, 
time; and be amplified his notion of this and a Federal Republic was shortly af- 
union in the speech at, Tours. He was terwanls proclaimed, after new elections 
one of the strongest opponents to the had brought into jiower a thoroughly 
candidacy of Amadeo of Italy for the representative body of Spanish Liberals. 
Spanish throne; ami after Amadco's Shortly after this the new Republic 
election, and during the two years of his was overwhelmed with troubles. The 
reign, he vigorously attacked the policy Radicals came forward with the most 
of Serrano and Sagasta. It was during extravagant propositions, ami seemed 
this interruption of the Republic, on the likely to throw the nation into anarchy. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



79 



A Carlist invasion in the north, and a 
Communistic rising in the south, the 
disorganization of the army and an 
almost bankrupt condition of the treas- 
ury, discouraged all but Castelar, who 
had meantime become President of the 
Cortes, and who, anxious to save the 
Republic, allowed himself to be made 
Dictator. He did for Spain in a few 
short months what Gambetta did for 
France in the trying days of the autumn 
of 1870. Out of the complete chaos he 
organized an army of nearly one hundred 
thousand men ; he reestablished military 
discipline, and punished with the great- 
est severity all breaches of army law. 
By a wise and just system of taxation 
lie managed to reestablish the public 
funds, and it is remarkable that lie did 
not get into debt a single penny, yet 
found what money was wanted on better 
terms than was ever obtained by the 
luckiest ministers or preceding monarchs. 
It is scarcely necessary to say here that 
it was entirely due to his political clever- 
ness that war with the United States 
was avoided at the time of the Virginius 
affair. All the time that he was harassed 
and weighed down with a thousand 
details of military and civil administra- 
tion he had also carefully to watch the 
intrigues and menacing movements of 
the Serrano party, which was already 
moving heaven and earth to put the son 
of Dona Isabel upon the throne. He 
went on with wonderful skill, and might 
have been in power now, had it not been 
for his own generosity. His desire to 
rally to the government of the Republic- 
an Liberals, without distinction of party, 
made him the antagonist of Salmerou, 
who had meantime become the President 
of the Cortes ; and on the 2d of January. 
1*74, Castelar found himself among the 
members of the minority. He at once 
resigned, and the next day came General 



Pavia, with his coup ri'fttitt, a weak and 
detestable imitation of the original crime 
of the same species in France. The 
Deputies were expelled from the Cham- 
ber, ami Marshal Serrano and his politi- 
cal friends took power into their own 
hands, to do with it as they saw lit. 
Castelar went back to private life with 
the profound conviction that the Repub- 
lic must wait a new opportunity, as he 
saw that political wisdom had not yet 
been developed in the peninsula. 

Towards the close of 1S74 he had 
numerous interviews with Sagasta, who, 
as minister, had much influence, and 
who seemed to favor the idea of found- 
ing in Spain a conservative Republic on 
the basis proposed in France. Hut then 
came the revolution of December. 1*74, 
the proclamation of Alfonso XII. as 
King of Spain, and Castelar, disgusted 
and disheartened, gave his resignation as 
professor in the University of Madrid, 
and departed from Spain on a long jour- 
ney. But in 1*70 he stepped back into 
the political arena, and was elected to I lie 
Cortes from the independent and demo- 
cratic city of Barcelona. 

His programme, then given in his 
speech to the voters of Barcelona, is as 
far from fulfilment in Spain to-day as it 
would have been a quarter of a century 
ago. •' I wish," said the great orator, 
" an organization of the State, in close 
harmony and intimate relation with lib- 
erty and democracy. I demand the 
fundamental rights of humanity, univer- 
sal suffrage, the incontestable basis of 
all democratic government, complete 
religious liberty with its immediate con- 
sequences, national instruction, and the 
State independent of every Church, re- 
establishment of the institution of trial 
by jury, and the faithful practice of the 
laws as they are written down." 

At Valencia, as at Barcelona and To- 



80 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

ledo and numerous other Spanish cities, his head from draughts, or when they are 

religious mystery plays and processions told that Magdalene rolls cigarettes 

form one of the chief amusements of the behind the scenes and chats with the 

populace. In the principal theatres of dancing-girls. Sometimes the most mon- 

Valencia, the ••Passion of Christ" is strous absurdities occur upon the stage, 

annually performed. The passion com- In the tableau of the Resurrection, one 

bines reverential treatment of sacred evening, in a Valencia theatre, the figure 

subjects and common-place dramatic of the risen Redeemer, as it passed 

effects in the most peculiar manner, through the air, toppled over, and hung 

The curtain rises on a scene loaded head downwards, until the person filling 

with Arabic decorations. Magdalene the /'"/< was nearly suffocated. This 

is disclosed combing her long tresses, passion has such an excitable effect upon 

looking at herself in a silver mirror, the populace that the bishops of Bar- 

and soliloquizing upon her affection for celona and Madrid forbade, at one time, 

the Saviour. Suddenly Judas enters its representation in their cities, old 

and tells her of his love for her. She women would s|iit upon the ground with 

repels him in the most ignominious lash- rage when Judas appeared upon the 

ion. Judas departs furious, crying out scene, and it' the poor artist were recog- 

that he will have revenge. At this point uized on the street any night after the 

a few of the native spectators wain performance he ran serious risk of being 

Judas to desist, or they will come upon torn in pieces. 

tin 1 stage and punish him. The scene On the festival day of St. Vicente, 

changes. The Saviour is seen bidding his patron of Valencia, the tradesmen or- 

mother adieu. Mary is overcome by a gani/.e lay processions in his honor, and 

presentiment of danger, and urges him to the young people of the upper classes 

remain with her. But the curtain opens erect platforms in the open air, upon 

at the back of the stage, and discloses which tableaux, showing the principal 

the purgatory tilled with choristers, rep- events in the life of the holy man, are 

resenting the spirits of the condemned given. Every hundredth year witnesses 

bewailing their sail fate. " Mother, of the grandest festivals of the 

these souls suffer unutterable anguish," Roman Church in St. Vicente's honor, 

are the words of the Saviour; --I iiiusl Even the materials of the ecclesiastical 

deliver them." treasury are exhibited in the narrow 

All the phases of the final passion Valenciai) streets. Twelve stout fellows 

succeed in regular order, and are often carry a heavy cross, which they are 

portrayed with rough, realistic vigor, strictly enjoined not to set down. If, 

The flagellation is sometimes so alarm- overcome with fatigue, they disobey this 

inch real in appearance that the mouu- injunction, they are fined, and the cross 

taineers menace with death those who are then belongs to the church upon whose 

applying the sc 'ges. So serious and parish soil it falls. Gigantic figures of 

reverent are the lookers-on that tiny St. Christopher bearing the child Jesus 

refuse to lie startled from their equa- upon his shoulder, of Methuselah, and of 

nimity, even when they see St. John at numerous other saints and worthies of 

the winus wearing a slouch hat to protect holy writ, till the ranks of this pageant. 



EUROPE IX STURM AND CALM. 



81 



CHAPTER EIGHT. 



Ten Years After. — Kingship Reestablished in Spain. — Going to a Royal Wedding. — Tlie French Gate 
of the Sea. — Marseilles. — Reminiscences of the Pestilence. — Napoleon III. and Marseilles. — 
Barcelona. — The Catalonian People. — From Barcelona to Valencia. — A Retrospect. — A Spanish 
Bishop. — Tortosa. — In the Beautiful South. — In the Market-place of Valencia. — Out of the 
World into Church. 



I LITTLE thought, when witnessing 
these numerous protests against the 
reestablishment of royalty in Spain, 
that the very question of monarchical 
restoration would be the indirect cause of 
the greatest war of modern times ; and 
that the son of Dona Isabel would come 
to the throne from which his mother had 
been compelled to flee in 1868. With 
the vanishing of j'outh go a host of 
cherished illusions, and the reaction, 
which I should have thought impossible 
in 1869, seemed to me, at least, expli- 
cable in 1879. It so happened that, ex- 
actly ten years after witnessing the great 
insurrection in Valencia, I found myself 
once more in that battle-scarred old 
town, on the way to witness the second 
weddiug of young King Alfonso, at the 
court where he has so peacefully main- 
tained himself despite the revolutions in 
the south, and the Carlists' wars in the 
north, since the wise men interfered, as 
they said, in the interests of order, and 
placed him on the throne in Madrid. 
History had been made with great 
rapidity in Spain during the decade just 
flown ; but the greater events north of 
the Pyrenees had dwarfed the Carlists' 
campaigns and the Andalusian revolts, 
so that they seemed of small interest to 
the European public. Yet progress had 
been made. Hundreds of monasteries 
and nunneries had been closed. In Bar- 
celona and other seaport towns a new 



commerce was springing up vigorously, 
and defied even the most crushing taxa- 
tion of the monarchy to keep it down. 
Bands of English engineers were explor- 
ing the mountain chains, in which lay 
hidden such a rich store of minerals; for 
Spain is the treasure-house of the future, 
and every man, woman, and child within 
her limits might lie rich if they were 
blessed with systematic industry. The 
Carlists had been literally laughed out 
of existence. Their beggarly exchequer 
and the protracted nature of their impo- 
tent campaigns had been powerful aids 
to the then little army which King Al- 
fonso had at his disposal. The Republic 
had come into view four or live times, 
and had gone back again into obscurity, 
because of the excesses of its disciples. 
So I was compelled, in my southward 
journey, in 1879, to pocket my illusions, 
and to confess that, for the present, 
Spain seemed wedded to monarchy, to 
Catholicism, and to the indolence which 
has long been her curse. 

I went down from Paris to Marseilles, 
and thence to Barcelona, that I might 
on the way to Madrid travel across the 
great stretch of country lying between 
Barcelona and Valencia ; the country over 
which young Hannibal tramped with his 
forces many a time, and which offers 
some of the most striking contrasts in 
scenery to be found in Europe. The 
whole journey from Paris to Madrid by 



82 



EUROPE I.X STORM AND CALM. 



tliis roundabout route is :i series of pict- 
uresque and delightful surprises. Per- 
haps there is no change more striking in 
France than that between the northern 
plains on which Paris stands, surrounded 
by gently rolling hills, and the wild coun- 
try of the Midi. Six hundred miles from 
the French capital one is in a land which 
seems to have felt but little, if at all, 
the modern influence. These vast Hats, 
covered with diminutive olive-trees wav- 
ing their shaggy tufts of leaves violently 
beneath the rude caresses of the Mistral ; 
and these ancient towns, hemmed in by 
walls which must have been built long 
before Columbus discovered America; 
these hills, covered with ruined castles 
and strongholds, — are all part of a past, 
that appears to have been invaded by 

no features of the present, except, the 
railroad, which is a kind of anachro- 
nism. The olive-orchards, the old cement 
mills, the wine-presses, and the quaint 
silk and ceramic factories, are the only 
evidence of trade; yet the populations 
must trade busily, lor the thickness with 
which the population is sown through 
certain sections of this southern France 
is quite wonderful. Every five minutes 
the rapid train passes through towns of 
ten thousand, fifteen thousand, or twenty 
thousand inhabitants, — towns where not 
a building has been erected perhaps for 
hundreds of years; where the inhabit- 
ants consider a cathedral of the four- 
teenth or fifteenth century as new. The 
route passes ancient Valence, where sat 
the famous political council in 1563 ; 
where Pius VI. died, and where a cer- 
tain youth, known as Napoleon Bona- 
parte, completed his military education. 
Valence is full of memories of the Prot- 
estants, and the valiant way in which 
they defended their principles in the old 
days ; and not very far away is Livron, 
which deserves a commemorative poem. 



In the good old stirring times of 1574 
Henry 111. besieged the fortress into 
which the Protestant Montbrun had with- 
drawn, after having given the kingiau 
uncommonly good thrashing in a battle 
not far from that point. Henry sum- 
moned Montbrun to surrender; but the 
latter sent forth a refusal almost as con- 
temptuous as the reputed response of 
Cambronne at Waterloo. So the royal 
and Catholic army sat down before the 
citadel of Livron, and was just beginning 
to think that the Protestants would come 
out with ropes about their necks, would 
acknowledge that they had been very 
naughty and mutinous, and would solicit 
the favor of being executed in the pres- 
ence of the king, when it was surprised 
to see the said Protestants charging 
down upon it; and before it could re- 
cover from its astonishment it had 
been very thoroughly walked over twice 
or thrice. This made the Catholic be- 
siegers angry, and they assaulted in 
their turn. Then Montbrun, to show- 
that he feared them not. at all, when he 
had repulsed their attack, came out with 
fiftv chosen men, and. sword in hand, 
these gallant fifty-one chased back to 
their tents the armies of Henry III. 
The siege had begun in June of 1574; 
it lasted with but little intermission until 
January of 1575, when the beaten and 
humiliated Henry withdrew his forces 

On every hand, up and down the length 
and breadth of the Midi, from the charm- 
ing coast where the rugged and many- 
colored rocks are bathed by purple and 
blue and violet water, to the fat plains 
and teeming vineyards in the midmost 
section, are interesting historic memo- 
rials. The term " Midi " is in the north 
indefinitely applied to the whole southern 
portion of France ; but the inhabitants 
of the south are as proud of their local 
divisions as our own American people is 



EUROTE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



83 



of its States, and the people of Provence 
are noted for their bigoted devotion to 
their fair land. Tell them of the delights 
and wonders of the great capital, and 
they point to their orange-groves, their 
laurel roses, their myrtles, their palm- 
trees towering high in air, their blue hills 
clad in garments of vapor, their rich 
earth, from which springs with tropical 
abundance such variety of fruits, and 
they say that the Parisians have none of 
these. The Marseillais is confident that 
there is no city so beautiful, so bewitch- 
ing, as his own. 

Marseilles is a huge, cosmopolitan, in- 
dustrious, vigorous city, offering the 
strongest and strangest contrast to the 
sleepy Spanish and Italian towns easily 
reached from it. The Cannebiere, the 
principal promenade, is crowded all day 
long with thousands of men, women, 
and children ; but no one seems really 
idle. This is the French gate of the sea. 
On the majestic quays one sees Aralis, 
Nubians, Greeks, Turks, and the motley 
and speckled peoples of the Orient. No 
one turns to stare at them. In Paris a 
black Mollah, in a gown of bedticking, 
would be gazed at for hours; in Mar- 
seilles he passes unnoticed. Paris 
possesses nothing finer than the Rue de 
la Republique in Marseilles. It is a 
veritable avenue of palaces, and sweeps 
majestically over the brow of a fine hill. 
On the front of the Exchange, fitly situ- 
ated near the water, which brings Mar- 
seilles her wealth, the prows of galleys 
are sculptured in marble, and remind 
one of the origin of the town. How 
little did the old Phoenicians fancy, when 
they came prowling along this coast in 
their galleys, that one day the little 
colony, which they were here to fouud, 
would become the chief seaport of a rich 
and powerful nation ! These Phoenicians 
started on their expedition in obedience 



to the oracle of Ephesus, six hundred 
years before the birth of Christ. Com- 
merce has been going on in the port ever 
since that time ; but all the great im- 
provements have been made within the 
last sixty years, and it is astonishing to 
nod- what has been done in that time. 
In 1850 the basins and docks covered a 
space of little more than sixty acres ; 
to-day they spread over three times that 
area. Liverpool, Antwerp, Marseilles, 
and Genoa strive for commercial su- 
premacy in Europe. Marseilles will 
not lie last in the race. Its warehouse 
frontage is enormous; those of London 
and New York alone arc larger. From 
this port goes forth the great fleet of 
the Messageries Maritimes, which pos- 
sesses fifty-six steamers, sailing to al- 
most every important point in the East ; 
and four other great companies own 
seventy-five first-class sea-going steam- 
ships. The Mediterranean and eastern 
seas are covered with craft, plying from 
Marseilles ; and every sunset sees a 
dozen bows which have been washed by 
the surges of the Orient grating against 
the quays. China, South America, and 
all the Mediterranean ports pour their 
riches into the lap of Marseilles. Italy, 
Spain, Algeria, and Corsica are almost 
dependent upou her. Cereals, oils, silks, 
and alcohol lie packed in the enormous 
warehouses. 

Marseilles is, of course, Republican. 
All the great cities of France are; but 
there are reactionary elements at work 
there all the time. The church has a 
feeble hold in the city. Until a com- 
paratively recent epoch the city had no 
church of any considerable dimensions. 
The great revolution swept away all of 
the principal ones, and they were never 
rebuilt. The women are still scrupulous 
in their observance of Catholic form, but 
the mass of the men pay no attention to 



84 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



the formulas of the church. Perhaps 
we must except the fishermen, who I 
believe fancy themselves under the pro- 
tection of "Our Lady of Lagarde," who 
has a handsome church on such a con- 
spicuous hill that it serves as a landmark 
for the bome-eoming seamen. From 
this hill cine can look out miles over the 
van-colored sea, and over the hills sur- 
rounding Marseilles; hills where vine- 
yards and olive-gardens are interspersed 
with tracts of wretched deserts, tit only 
for the habitation of the horrid swine 
that one sees trotting about them. 

Napoleon III. was fond of Marseilles, 
and built there a vast prefecture, which 
is a local wonder, like Monte-Cristo 
and the Cannabiere. The prefecture 
is in the correct and monotonous style 
of the Second Empire. Large and line 
avenues, bordered with beautiful trees, 
radiate from it in every direction. 

The northerner in these southern lands 
will never tire of studying the popula- 
tions. The singing workmen and the 
chattering and laughing Provencal 
maidens, with eves like sloes, and 
hair like the raven's wing, and the 
tawny Italians, who have come to Mar- 
seilles in search of the work which 
they cannot find at home, — are all 
interesting. The Provencal language, 
when one listens to it from a short 
distance, sounds so much like English, 
with the inflection which is given to 
it in America, that he involuntarily 
turns his head when he hears it, ex- 
pecting to be hailed by au acquaintance 
or to recognize his own national type. 
Full of Greek and Latin, this sono- 
rous and musical language, when well 
spoken, by cultivated people, has a 
grace which must be denied to the 
French with its staccato note and to the 
Spanish with its collection of hisses and 
gutturals. 



Marseilles pays great attention to the 
rules of health to-day, because she has 
had several terrible lessons in the past. 
The pest came in the old times, none 
knew how or whence, and smote the 
population with dreadful force in 1720 
and 1721. It fell upon Marseilles, and 
did not depart until it had made eighty 
thousand victims. It is supposed that 
the plague was originally brought in 
an eastern vessel ; but this was never 
proved. It was even the custom to bury 
the dead in the vaults of the churches, 
and this deplorable habit contributed to 
spread the disease. The Bishop of 
Marseilles was visiting at the Court in 
Versailles, when the news of the out- 
break of the plague reached him in a 
note conceived as follows, and preserved 
in the archives of the city : " Monseig- 
neur, — The Hock calls its shepherd. 
(omI has chastised Marseilles. The pest 
is slaving us. The rich have tied. The 
poor are dying. The desolation is gen- 
eral. People believe that they see in 
the air the angel which slew with the 
plague the legions of Sennacherib. 
Come, and die with us." 

The heroic bishop left the Court at 
midnight to escape the objections to his 
departure which he knew would be made 
by the dissolute monarch of the time. 
He travelled twelve days, with relays of 
horses, and on the evening of the 
thirteenth day he reached Marseilles. 
The city was indeed desolate. The 
galley-slaves had been mustered to clear 
away the corpses which encumbered the 
streets. People were dying by hundreds 
on the very thresholds of their houses. 
A kind of leprosy was in the air. The 
bishop inarched into the church, where 
lay the unburied dead, and celebrated 
high mass. Confidence returned to the 
cowards who had run away, when they 
learned that their pastor was in the city, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



and people e.ame back. The bishop 
ordered mass to be celebrated a few days 
thereafter in the open air in the very 
midst of the plague ; and the church 
brought forth all its splendors for the 
occasion. The bells of the convents 
rang ; the cannon of the forts thundered ; 
and, when the Dens in Adjutorium was 
intoned, eighty thousand voices took up 
the chorus. For weeks thereafter the 
bishop, bareheaded and with cross in 
hand, went about, adjuring the people 
to be courageous ; and, proper measures 
having been taken, the plague soon died 
entirely away, and for more than a 
century and a half the authorities of 
Marseilles have taken almost infinite 
precautions against the return of the 
dreaded visitor. 

The park of the Prado is one of the 
loveliest in Europe. It is rather an 
avenue than a park, yet partakes of the 
character of both. Noble trees border 
it, and from any point on the promenade 
one may look around on exquisite villas, 
Italian in architecture ; or densely wooded 
hills, over which a bluish vapor seems 
perpetually to hover ; or on naked sum- 
mits of rock ; on ancient convents, tran- 
quil amid their groves ; on bastides, as 
the country-seats are called ; and, finally, 
on the magic surface of the southern 
sea. 

From Marseilles I went straight to 
Barcelona, where I found the Catalans 
but little interested in the royal festivi- 
ties soon to occur in Madrid. The land- 
lord at the principal hotel shrugged his 
shoulders, and said he knew nothing 
about the king's wedding ; and I was 
informed that the railways did not find it 
worth their while to organize excursion 
trains from Barcelona to the capital for 
the wedding. A queer character is the 
Catalan of the fields, with his rough 
dialect, his contempt for everything 



outside his native province. But the 
city people are by no means rough or 
ignorant. Barcelona seems to give the 
lie to the assertion that Spain alone, of 
all European countries, refuses to be 
modernized. On every hand are spring- 
ing up beautiful promenades and stately 
streets around the ancient Barcelona's 
labyrinthine alleys ami obscure lanes. 
The exquisite leafy Rambla, the grand 
central street of Barcelona, is one of the 
prettiest sights in the world on a sun- 
shiny winter Sunday morning, when the 
yellow leaves of the sycamores seem like 
a gulden canopy over the thousands of 
men and women promenading with Span- 
ish insouciance. The shop-keeping ele- 
ment is, of course, prominent in a com- 
mercial seaport like Barcelona, but the 
people are renowned for the elegance of 
their dress and their manners. A deli- 
cacy of taste, which is one of the praise- 
worthy qualities of the Spanish charac- 
ter, is observable in the deportment of 
the soft-voiced girls, dressed in black, 
with the traditional lace veils adjusted 
carefully upon their glossy braids as 
they accompany their mammas home 
from the morning service at some one 
of the many churches. The whole ex- 
tent of the Rambla, from the water-side 
to the Saragossa railway station, resem- 
bles, at noon on a Sunday, a vast salon, 
in which all classes of society are repre- 
sented. On either side of the broad 
avenue run paved streets, lined with 
immensely high, solid houses containing 
the principal hotels and shops of the 
quarter. Soldiers are a frequent sight 
in the large cities of Spain. The sol- 
dier, the priest, and the gendarme, are 
like the poor in these sunshiny lands, 
— you have them always with you. The 
Sunday parade brings together in Barce- 
lona two or three thousand soldiers, 
dressed in admirably fitting uniforms of 



8(3 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



blue coats, rod trousers, and green 
gloves, and these defenders of the mon- 
archy are always marshalled by hand- 
some officers. The sellers of lottery 
tickets, and itinerant venders of almost 
every useless object conceivable, are the 
pests of the stranger in Barcelona. The 
clubs, the great Liceo Theatre, said to 
be the largest in the world, and the su- 
perb plan for municipal improvements, 
are worth careful attention from the 
traveller. The citizens of Barcelona 
have had the best features of Vienna 
and Paris mapped out in an unoccupied 
space in the most beautiful outlying 
district of the city, lint it will take 
half a century and a population of one 
million to bring Barcelona anywhere 
near the level of the plan. The Athe- 
naeum Club of Barcelona has a thousand 
members, chosen from the liberal profes- 
sions. No Spanish city has more induce- 
ments as an agreeable place of residence 
tor a few months to those who wish 
mild winter weather. The climate is 
singularly soft and free from sudden 
changes. The last leaf does not flutter 
down to the ground until mid-Decem- 
ber, and the trees are green again almost 
before one has noticed the absence of 
leaves. 

But I have not space to tell you 
all the curiosities of Barcelona: the 
strange old cathedral, with its three 
vast naves ami its subterranean chapel 
of wonderful richness of design and or- 
nament; the mansions of the Diputa- 
eion, built in the sixteenth century, and 
enriched with many of Fortune's master- 
pieces: or the great rambling square on 
which the Exchange stands; or the 
pretty fountain, around which are grouped 
statues representing the cities of north- 
ern Spain. A striking effect in the 
cathedral is produced by the subdued 
and many-colored lights which fall 



through the stained-glass windows upon 
the hundreds of worshippers, kneeling 
at early morning in one of the central 
aisles under soft tints, which seem to 
tremble down upon them like benedic- 
tions. 

It is a far cry from Barcelona to Va- 
lencia, ami I travelled thither in company 
with a tall and stately Spanish bishop, 
who in the country of proverbially hand- 
some men would readily pass for one of 
the finest specimens. He was accom- 
panied by an elderly lady, witli a slightly 
apparent beard, who was evidently his 
sister. Had this priest been an army offi- 
cer he would have broken a hundred 
hearts before he gained his retiring pen- 
sion. But there was no trace of world- 
liness in his calm ami serene countenance, 
or in the deep black eyes, from which 
shone a softened spiritual light. Every- 
thing about his person bespoke an aristo- 
cratic gentility, completely at the service 
of the church. His shapely form was 
encased in a black silk gown, which 
descended to his plain shoes, and [ could 
only now and then catch a gleam of a 
line silk stocking as he moved. A low 
linen collar and a black clerical band 
were the only ornaments at his neck. On 

his head he wore a small skull-cap, which 
left bare a rich expanse of brow, with 
but few wrinkles upon it. His lips 
were thin, and his speech was refined 
1 fancied thai this was not at all the 
tvpe of a man whom Philip II. would 
have liked to have had near him. 
The fanatical monarch would have ban- 
ished him from his presence, and would 
have replaced him by some one of 
sterner, fiercer type. I imagined, too, 
that my fellow-traveller, the bishop, 
would have been shocked, rather than 
offended or angered, if some light-headed 
free-thinker hail attacked him in con- 
versation, endeavoring to prove to him 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



87 



that the church is doomed to decay. 
This bishop was certainly one of those 
who are firm in the faith. For him the 
beautiful forms of madonnas, saints, 
and martyrs, the sonorous chants of 
monkish choirs, and the incense-laden 
interiors of immense cathedrals, were 
profoundly touching, and represented 
realities from which no weak human 
assertion or argument could detract. 
I would have given much to have heard 
his opinion on socialism, nihilism, and 
a dozen other isms now making their 
blind way through this world. I am 
sure that his statements would have 
been deliberate and gentle, devoid of 
wrath, and the fruit of honest conviction. 
If he had been told that he and his 
were standing obstacles to modern 
progress in Spain I am confident that 
he would have answered, with a winning 
smile, that progress must bow before 
the immutable, omnipresent, all-power- 
ful church. I was so interested in the 
bishop that 1 forgot to look at Tarragona ; 
but just beyond it there were exquisite 
bits of scenery : here and there, gardens 
through which soft breezes were blow- 
ing, lazily moving the leaves of the 
semi-tropical trees ; bits of oriental green 
framed in rugged rock ; a superb bridge, 
with its squat arch of red, standing out 
in fine relief against a brilliant back- 
ground of green, — a bridge named, it 
is said, after the devil, although 1 
suppose his grace, the bishop, would 
have been puzzled to tell me why the 
structure, which dates back to Hannibal. 
should be devoted to his Satanic majesty. 
How little the warriors who spurred up 
and down these fields with Hannibal 
dreamed that some day a demon with 
its belly full of steam would draw trav- 
ellers across the lands from one city to 
another, in less time than it took them to 
go half-a-dozen leagues ! 



Southward and inward we went, across 
the fertile plains just below Tarragona, 
past villages nestling among vines and 
orange-groves, past wild almond-trees 
and mulberries, and now the villagers 
began to look more uncouth and savage 
than those between Barcelona and Tarra- 
gona. The men were clothed in linen 
trousers caught up at the knee, and their 
feet were encased in rawhide and straw 
sandals. For head-gear they wore only 
a handkerchief, colored and dirty. I 
recognized my old friends of ten years 
before, and the same types that I saw 
fighting behind the barricades in Valen- 
cia. Most of them carried knives in 
their belts and blankets slung over their 
shoulders. When they engage in a 
quarrel they either whip the blanket 
around their loins or over one arm, using 
it as a protector against the dreadful 
thrusts which all of them know how to 
give with the knife. The women are 
dressed as simply as the men, and some- 
times wear so little clothing that it quite 
astonishes the stranger from more deco- 
rous regions. 

At Tortosa I lost my companion, the 1 
bishop, a might) - crowd of black-frocked 
and rotund clerical gentry coming down 
and bearing him off most reverently to 
some Episcopal residence. The sister 
with the dimly perceptible beard occu- 
pied herself with the parcels, and the 
bishop departed with a sonorous " Fare- 
well," which had all the unctuous flavor 
of a benediction. 

The tram- passed through a stone- 
strewn plain, where grew scarcely herbage 
enough for the flocks ; yet every mile 
or two were sheepfolds skilfully con- 
structed of stone and earth, so that the 
fierce winds which sometimes rage there 
could not tear them down. As we left 
Tortosa we caught a glimpse of a lone- 
street, winding up a steep hill, and in 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



the middle of this avenue swept by the 
penetrating sun we saw three figures, 
which sum up the civilization of Spain. 
One was a soldier, the second a priest, 
and the third a peasant, looking enough 
like a bandit to have been garroted on 
suspicion. There were mysterious bal- 
conies protruding from still more mys- 
terious houses ; shady alley-ways, in 
which roses were growing in the open 
air; cool nooks, where the old women 
sat, spinning, here and anon, in the 
kaleidoscopic vision that we had of 
Tortosa, before we were trundled out of 
it into the open (.lain, and began to draw 
near to a rocky range of mountains. 

Once past the mountains we were in 
the real south, where the tig, the olive, 
the vine, the orange, the almond, were 
common in the tields, in this soft De- 
cember weather. The odor of orange- 
leaves perfumed the air; the delicate 
darkness seemed to heighten the value 
of the perfume, and to lender the foliage 
even more bewitching than when dis- 
tinctly seen. Here and there were 
superb estates, and near them lands 
lying as ineult as they were two thousand 
years ago. The farm-houses and the 
adjoining buildings were all fortified and 
connected together in a manner which 
indicated that the country is not safe. 
At Saguntum, near the rather ugly 
modern town of Murviedro, we found 
several dozens of old women, who ex- 
pected to sell us candles, with which to 
visit the Roman ruins by night. We 
declined to stop, and went on to Valen- 
cia, through beautiful vineyards and 
orange-orchards; and at ten o'clock, on 
a beautiful moonlight night, 1 was in 
Valencia. A period of ten years had in 
no way sufficed to soften the horrors of 
the tartana, or native omnibus. I went 
out into the market-place and tried to 
picture anew the scene which I had wit- 



nessed. Oddly enough, Stanley was at 
this place exactly three years after the 
insurrection of 1860, and saw a second 
light, much like that which we had seen 
together. That night I had visions of 
battle whenever the night-watchman, 
who insisted on passing every hour 
through the narrow street and yelling 
forth his protest that all was serene, 
would let me get, a momentary nap. 
This wretched watchman, with lantern 
and spear in hand, ought, to have been 
garroted for shrieking " Las doce tie la 
noche : sereno." •' Go home, you misera- 
ble wretch, and impale yourself upon 
vour own spear," I cried to him in 
frenzy ; but he shouted on. 

Twelve o'clock, and all serene. Alas, 
yes ! — serene in conscious servitude, in 
slavery to a youthful monarch, Va- 
lencia, tin' pretty city of the Cid Cam- 
peador, calmly wearing her chains. At 
last 1 went to sleep, and dreamed that 
the ('id came back to the world on his 
famous steed, and carried away young 
Alfonso XII. and his palace on the point 
of his gigantic lance. About three 
o'clock an enterprising cock and a roar- 
ing watchman made a combined attempt 
on my slumbers ; but this time I escaped 
the snare, and when I awoke it was 
broad daylight, and under my windows 
two children were singing sweetly. 

In the morning I went through the 
market-place. The square in which ten 
years ago I had seen dead men lying, 
— the steam, as Francois Coppee says, in 
his •• Legend of Saragossa," rising from 
their blood on the pavement, as the hot 
sun beat down upon it, — was now tilled 
with almond-eyed, dark-haired rustic 
maidens, shielded under dirty-colored 
awnings, and announcing in their musi- 
cal voices the excellence of the fruits 
and Mowers which they desired to sell. 
From the church, which I had seen 



EVROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



8!) 



beleaguered one day and turned into 
a hospital the next, turned forth a cur- 
rent of nurse-maids carrying bright ba- 
bies, and followed by anxious mothers, 
who had been attending some ceremony 
for the good of the most Catholic infants. 
How bright the babies are in this land 
of sunshine and politics ! They totally 
disarrange one's theories about the race 
in decadence. Personal beauty of a ro- 
bust, vigorous, and enduring type is as 
common in Spain as flowers in the hedge 
or birds in the thatches. 

The cathedral was full of memories for 
me, for I had seen it ten years before, 
when the fighting had just ceased to 
rage around it, and when the wounded, 
with bandaged heads, were grouped 
against its yellow ami ancient walls. I 
remembered how in the holy dimness I 
had seen a handsome young engineer, 
with pale face and huge moustache, kneel- 
ing in an attitude of intense thankfulness 
In tore the altar, doubtless stirred to his 
heart's core with thanksgiving because 
his life had been spared. I remembered 
the mountaineers strolling about the sa- 
cred door-ways with cigarettes at their 
lips, and their gleaming rifles in their 
hands. 

I took off my hat, and went in. The 
old beggar woman squatting on the 
stones pulled back the leathern curtain, 
and held out her withered hand for char- 
ity. For a moment, after the sharp 
sunlight of the streets, the dimness 
was embarrassing to the vision ; but 
presently my eyes became used to the 
place, and I saw that everything was as 
it had been for two or three centuries ; 
that nothing had been changed in these 
ten years. The revolution had come and 
gone, but the church remained. The 
revolution had despoiled monasteries and 
convents, but here was no sign of dis- 
turbance. By letting the leathern cur- 



tain fall behind me I had shut the nine- 
teenth century completely out and away. 

As I strolled up to the central i-urn, 
or vast church within a church, which is 
a peculiar feature of Spanish ecclesias- 
tical edifices, and looked in through the 
opening, which was surrounded with 
sculptured angels, cardinals, popes, 
bishops, and cherubims, in lovely and 
somewhat incongruous confusion, I 
saw long rows of aged priests seated on 
carved benches, holding books open be- 
fore them and singing praises unto the 
Lord, delivered in solemn refrain. On 
rolled the stately Latin, until my sense 
of rhythm was so excited that I could not 
stir from the spot. I tried to count the 
priests, but I could not, for in the far 
corner the shade was so deep that I 
could see nothing save now and then 
white hair glistening indistinctly, or the 
momentary display of a wrinkled face, 
patient and serene. I wondered what 
these celibates, sitting in the artistic 
gloom of the cathedral, thought, if they 
thought at all, of insurrections and 
things political ; of Alfonso's marriage, 
or the insidious workings of the Black 
Hand. How did the outer world impinge 
on their senses? I might have been 
speculating there until now, had not 
the round-voiced singing gradually died 
away, and the lights grown more and 
more dim, until it seemed as if the 
veteran chanters had melted into the 
incense-laden air. Presently two or 
three dignitaries, in trailing robes, came 
out of the obscurity, and, traversing the 
nave of the church, went away by the 
side doors, each courteously begging the 
other to precede him, with as much 
dignity and deference as would have 
been shown by two courtiers. 

Why do not the mortal remains of 
the Cid lie in this old church, in the town 
which he took, sword in hand, from the 



90 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



Moors? The cathedral was not begun 
until more than a century after his death ; 
but he should have had a niche here. 
The treasures of the cathedral are count- 
less. There are few churches in the 
world which would so richly repay an in- 
vading army for pillaging its sacristy. 
Gold and silver, and marble and bronze, 
have been lavished upon it in such pro- 
fusion that now and then the beggars in 
the streets must ask themselves why it 
is that the good God, who sent his Son 
down to earth to lie horn in a manger, 
needs so much luxury in his earthly 
biding-place, when they are. perforce, 
content with a crust of bread, onions for 
dessert, and more kicks than half-pence? 
This little visit to the cathedral in Va- 
lencia enabled me to appreciate more 
fully what Castelar said to me a few 



days later, in Madrid. " No republic," 
said he. '■ however durable it might be, 
would lie likely to interfere with the 
church in .Spain." — "Our country," 
said Don Ernilio, with solemnity, "is 
Catholic." And it is Catholic, because 
the sensuous temperament, which is so 
prominent in even the rudest of the 
Spaniards, cannot permanently escape 
from the enchantment of a religion so 
abounding in the picturesque and the 
impressive. 

I had not promised to carry vou to 
tin 1 royal wedding in this chapter, but we 
will now no longer loiter by the way, 
Come to Madrid, which is, in winter, in 
the midst of the desolate plains, acold 
contrast to the warmth anil gloom of Va- 
lencia and its environing valleys. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



91 



CHAPTER NINE. 



Madrid and its Gloom. — The Royal Wedding in 1.S79. — Queen Christina and Kins Alfonso. — 
The Puerta del Sol. — The Church of the Atocha. — Memories of DoSa Isabel. —Royal Rejoicings. 
— An Interview with Castelar. — Gambetta and Castclar Compared. 



AFTER the laughing landscapes of 
southern Spain, the vistas of bine 
mountains, of plains filled with olive 
and pomegranate trees, and the superb 
gardens of Seville and Cordova, the 
barren hills and wind-swept plains near 
the Spanish capital are far from inspir- 
ing. The sparkling saying of John 
Hay, that "Madrid is a capital with 
malice aforethought," is unlike most 
epigrams, in this respect, that it is quite 
true. There is, too, a kind of ill-nature 
in the landscape about Madrid ; one falls 
inevitably to thinking of the Inquisition 
and the cruel Spauiards of the older 
days. Here and there a monastery is 
perched on a crag, or rounded hill. A 
few suspicious-looking peasants stand 
huddled together, as if meditating an 
attack upon the train. Even the bulls 
grazing near the tracks lift their noble 
heads, and gaze at the passer-by witli a 
kind of latent ferocity. At Aranjuez, 
where I arrived just at sunset after the 
journey from Valencia, there was a hint 
of modernism in the architecture ; and 
the well-kept gardens and the view of 
the handsome summer palace of the 
kings of Spain called to mind the mem- 
orable occasion when the people went 
in noisy procession to that place, to 
signify to the trembling monarch of that 
time — the stormy days of 1808 — that 
they had had enough of him. Castelar 
dates the decline of Spanish monarch}' 
as an institution from that period. 



Very beautiful were the groves and 
the parks around Aranjuez. The yellow 
leaves — -yes, the golden leaves, for in 
the brilliant November sunshine they 
seem tinged with gold — had fallen in 
great masses, and strewn the long tree- 
bordered alley-ways with carpets such 
as the hand of man could not rival. 
The valleys were filled with rich bouquets 
of foliage. The retreat seemed more 
like the abode of peace and philosophy 
than like a royal residence around which 
revolution has often raged. After 
Aranjuez the barrenness begins again, 
and the contrast is all the more striking 
because of the beautiful oasis which one 
has just quitted. 

I found the Madrid railway-station 
crowded with gayly dressed officers and 
with dirty omnibus-drivers. The former 
class was so occupied with saluting each 
other that it gave me no trouble; but 
the latter tribe was so aggressive that I 
was compelled to fray a passage through 
them, and to threaten as well as coax 
before I could ensure attention at a rea- 
sonable price, even for Spain. Presently, 
seated with a travelling-companion, in 
one of the large four-sealed omnibuses, 
which are numerous in Madrid, and are 
marked " Servicio publico," I found my- 
self dashing at breakneck pace through 
muddy and irregularly paved streets. 
My vehicle had three horses, an old black 
hitched ahead of two venerable white 
ones; but when this equine trio started 



92 



II iml'E IX STORM AXD CALM. 



it really seemed .is if the prince of witch- 
craft had applied the lash. Away we 
went, nearly knocking down the unhappy 
octroi officers, who desperately endeav- 
ored to climb up on the steps and in- 
quire if we had anything dutiable. We 
had only tune to cry, '■'■Nada " (nothing) , 
and to cling on, before we were rushing 
pasl half a hundred tall white and yellow 
buildings. We soon passed the olive 
avenues of the Prado, and were mount- 
ing the hill of the Calle Alcala. We 
firmly expected to be lolled against the 
curb-stones; but the black horse, :is if 
inspired, tore around every obstruction, 
and the whites sprang after him. 

And the Puerta del Sol? It was a 
vision of an immense square, with a 
vast fountain in the centre, and lofty 
buildings, with balconies on every side. 
Ten streets open into this place, and 
from each one of them, as we arrived, 
came forth interminable processions of 
mules laden with straw, ami hay, ami 
wine, and oil; of soldiers in long coat, 
and .short coals, in white jackets covered 
with silver braid, in blue surtouts and red 
trousers; of little brown-faced boys, 
selling photographs of doubtful morality ; 
of old women, screaming forth the names 
of newspapers ; of asthmatic old men, 
wrapped to the eyes in lone- cloaks, and 
with sombreros drawn over their lean 
faces ; of priests, majestic in their 
ample robes of black; of cavaliers re- 
turning from the park; of a group of 
conscripts singing merrily to the music 
of jingling guitars; ami of senoritas of 
all classes, morals, and conditions, each 
with a black lace veil falling gracefully 
about her pretty head. Every third man 
was a soldier, and seemed quite- con- 
tented to be such. He was always neat. 
and uniformed with excellent taste. I 
soon found myself installed in a hand- 
some room in the Hotel de la Paix, 



looking down upon the great square. 
From below came up a roar such as one 
hears when near a camp. This was the 
roar of the sovereign people of Madrid, 
discussing, selling, buying, threatening, 
laughing, snarling. There is not such 
another noisy place in Europe, nor one 
that in the course of a single day pre- 
sents such an enormous variety of 
aspects. In 1869, during the revolu- 
tion, it was amusing to watch the news- 
venders, who possess all the impetuous 
energy of their American prototypes. 
In a few days eighteen or twenty mush- 
room journals sprang into existence in 
Madrid, their columns tilled with the 
most exaggerated political jargon. Old 
women, barefooted and bareheaded, 
stalked to and fro, screaming forth the 
merits of the Equality, the Discussion, 
and the Combat. In their wake followed 
ragged urchins, urging the claims of the 
Impartial, the Diary of the People, the 
Epoch, and the Correspondence. I re- 
member that, curious to hold in my 
hand one of the smallest and newest- of 
the journals, I beckoned to an old crone 
lo follow me to a neighboring cafe, there 
selected my paper, ami searched my 
pockets for the proper coin with which 
to pay; but I found no small change. 
The venerable vernier had none, refused 
my proffered gold piece, demanded her 
paper back, and overwhelmed me with 
expletives and objurgations. A tall, 
grave Spaniard seated near me arose, 
touched his hat courteously, produced 
from his pocket the proper money, paid 
the woman, handed me the paper, which 
she had already taken from me, and, 
when I desired to pay him, held up his 
hands in sign of protestation. Then he 
resumed his seat, and straightway ig- 
nored my existence. 

But to the Royal Wedding! A mat- 
rimonial alliance with the Austrian ladv 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



93 



was felt to be au important movement, 
and was doubtless recognized by the 
church as a kind of moral support for 
it ; for Austria and Spain are eminently 
Catholic, and their united action might 
now and then offset the invading in- 
fluence of the northern Protestant 
powers in a great European struggle. 
The aristocratic society of Europe was 
invited to the festivities attendant upon 
this Spanish wedding ; and to welcome 
the hundreds of fashionable guests, the 
old Spanish Court brought forth the 
remnants of its ancient splendor, and 
succeeded in impressing every one with 
the luxury of its ceremonials and the 
stateliness of its dignity. The pro- 
gramme of the royal wedding comprised 
a grand riveille, or "Diana," ;is it is 
called in Spain, to begin at seven. This 
was on the morning after my arrival. 
All the troops of the garrison and thou- 
sands sent in from the neighboring towns 
took part in this early bugle call. The 
places of the Atocha, the Botanico, the 
Prado, the Calle Alcala, the Calle 
Mayor, the Arco dela Armcria, the Plaza 
de Oriente, and all the other principal 
avenues and squares of the capital, 
rang with the inspiring martial music. 
Presently came the soldiers, marching 
with the long swinging step for which 
they are renowned, and looking neither 
to right nor left. The impression which 
strangers received was that the govern- 
ment was inclined to take no chances on 
this important occasion, and had made 
the ''Diana" a pretext for tilling 
Madrid with troops, which could, if 
necessary, overawe any revolutionary 
crowds. The decorations were profuse 
on the hotels and chief commercial es- 
tablishments, but few private mansions 
had either flags or illuminations. Over 
the door of the Ministerio de la Gober- 
naciou was a gigantic "Viva Alfonso 



XII." in gas-jet letters, and upon it was 
a crown, which when lighted had an 
enormously unsteady air. By ten 
o'clock in the morning the masses of 
the people were arranged in rows along 
the whole royal line of march, from the 
palace to the Atocha church, where 
the ceremony was to take place. 

This Atocha is a rather inferior-looking 
religious edifice, which belonged originally 
to a, convent of the Dominican order, 
founded under Charles V. by one of his 
officers. It was destroyed in 1808. 
Ferdinand VII. had it rebuilt under the 
direction of the celebrated architect Isi- 
doro Velasquez, and the church served 
as a Court chapel. The tradition 
requires that the kings of Spain should 
go every Saturday to attend service at 
the Atocha. There is an ancient statue 
of the Virgin in this church, which is 
held in high veneration in Spain. In 
the clnipel, on the left on entering, is 
the mausoleum raised to the memory of 
Marshal Prim, who unwittingly did good 
work for the young king, and whose end 
was tragic enough to have pleased bis 
worst enemies. I observed with some 
amusement that two members of the 
corps of gendarmes were sufficient to 
control the movements of six or seven 
thousand impatient people on the Puerta 
del Sol. In New York or Paris two 
hundred policemen certainly would have 
been necessary. The soldiers, who 
were ranged in rows on either side of 
the route chosen for the royal pair to 
pass over going to and coming from the 
church, were treated with small deference 
by the crowd ; but it was mortally afraid 
of the gendarmes. 

It was announced that the king would 
leave the palace at eleven o'clock; but 
this was too much to expect of a Span- 
iard, who is never ready at the appointed 
time, although exactitude is said to be 



94 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



the politeness of sovereigns; and it was 
nearly mid-day when a hum in tin 1 crowd, 
and the music of the military bands 
announced the young monarch's coming. 
The first item in the royal procession 
was a very gayly liveried gentleman, 
mi mntcd on a horse laden with two 
drums. He looked something like the 
advance-guard of a rustic circus. From 
time to time 1 he heat a doleful measure 
on the drums, .lust behind him were 
twelve trumpeters, clad in ancient cos- 
tumes, and next came twenty-two led- 
horses, beautifully caparisoned. Behind 
the heralds ami the lcd-horses were 
lancers, gendarmes, and a few Court 
officials; then came a long procession of 
state carriages, twenty-three in number. 
These ancient vehicles, swung high be- 
tween ponderous wheels and balance- 
springs, with which not even the miser} 
of a Spanish highway could interfere, 
lumbered past the throng without elicit- 
ing a single cheer. It was amusing to 
witness the coldness of the reception. 
One might have fancied the populace 
contemplating the passage of an enemy's 
troops through its country. On the Pu- 
erto, del Sol not a hat was lilted, and but 
few ladies waved handkerchiefs when the 
king's carriage came in sight. This car- 
riage was an enormous structure, with a 
crown on its roof, and with great win- 
dows, through which the crowd might 
note every movement of its sovereign. 
It was preceded by four and six horse 
carriages, and by a multitude of out- 
riders, footmen, and jockeys. The dis- 
play of plumes and rich silver and gold 
trappings, and of housings centuries 
old, was quite dazzling. The king's car- 
riage was drawn by eight white horses, 
covered with plumes and with silver dee- 
orations. The young king was sedate, 
and bowed repeatedly to right and hit, 
although no one paid the slightest atten- 



tion to nis comtesies. As the king's 

carriage passed the Ministerio de la Go- 
bernacion a long procession of state car- 
riages, containing the Archduchess Chris- 
tina — so soon to be the queen — and her 
suite, came into view, and bugles sounded 
anew. A thrill of music ran along the 
martial lines, and the monarch and his 
bride moved on to the Atocha through 
the Carera de San Jeronirao. Nothing 
could have been prettier than the rich 
contrasts of color in velvets lined with 
silver, banners and uniforms; and the 
military display was quite beautiful. 
Tin- officials of the Court were legion. 

Queen Isabel always had a special 
affection for the Atocha. ami bestowed 
upon it the most magnificent gilts. 
After the events of 1872 it was in this 
same church that one of her successors, 
King Amadeo the first and last, went to 
view the corpse of General Prim, whose 
murder had added another and notable 
one. to the long list of Spanish political 
assassinations. Doha Isabel was quite 
overcome by her visit to the church on 
the wedding-day ; and when she entered 
with the procession, and the patriarch of 
the Indies came bowing forward to offer 
her thi' holy water, she wept, and appeared 
likely to faint. Perhaps she was think- 
ing of the fleeting nature of this world's 
pleasures, and that the church in which 
her son was then to be married might 
serve in the future for more melancholy 
ceremonies in connection with her family 
than those of matrimony. 

There was a stately company in the 
little church. The gentlemen of the 
household seemed numerous enough for 
a legislature. There was the suite of 
the Infanta Dona Christina, the suite of 
ex-Queen Isabel, the first groom, the 
major domo of service, the Dukes of 
Sexto and Encedo, and the Count of 
Pilar. The ex-queen entered the church 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



95 



to the music of the Royal March, and 
she, as well as the king and the arch- 
duchess were received at the door by the 
Papal Nuncio, who is a most important 
personage in such a Catholic country as 
Spain, and by a multitude of richly 
robed priests. Among the great ladies 



the archduchess; and a host of pretty 
princesses. Dona Isabel wore a crown 
of diamonds, and a sumptuous mantle 
covered with gold lace and ornaments, 
the train of which was upheld by two 
stately gentlemen. The king was in the 
uniform of a captain-general, with the 




f ii" ;; ' ' ' c 



WEDDING OF ALFONSO XII. 



present, looking intensely, and some of 
them rather sternly, at the future queen as 
she came up the central aisle, were the 
Duchesses of Medina Cadi, Almodova 
del Valle ; the Countess of Toveno Caste- 
jon and Viamanuel ; the Marchioness of 
Santa Cruz ; the Duchess of Fernand- 
Nunez, of Ahumada; the Duchess of 
Bailen, wife of him who was sent to 
Vienna officially to demand the hand of 



Order of the Golden Fleece and an 
Austrian field-marshal's scarf. 

The young archduchess seemed to float 
into, the church in a cloud, so voluminous 
was her veil of white, heavily bordered 
with silver lace. When it was lifted 
back, her toilette excited a general cry of 
admiration, so rich was it in embroideries 
of flowers and leaves in gold and silver, 
and laurels and white roses in profusion. 



:m; 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



The diadem which crowned her head was 
of pearls, such as only the Ilapsburgs, 
the richest family in the world, can show. 
The archduchess was mortally pale. 
The spiteful ladies of the Court said it 
was because of the weight of the robe 
and the velvets which she wore. But 
she soon recovered, and arrived, smiling, 
at the grand altar, which was illuminated 
with hundreds of lights; and there she 
met the King, who took her by the hand. 
Then came the usual Catholic ceremonial 
of marriage, the signing of the act, and 
the benediction by the Patriarch of the 
Indies, — -all of which was of brief dura- 
tion. Those who have never seen the 
splendors <>f a Court can form but a, 
small idea of tin' richness of the toilettes 
of the ladies who witnessed this spec- 
tacle. Many of the beauties wore two 
bands of velvet embroidered with silver, 
which are emblematic of their rank ; ami 
on their glossy braids diadems worth 
fortunes rested. The mantles, the 
dresses, the collars, the corsages, were 
all of the richest material. One could 
well have fancied, in looking at this 
superb display of luxurious dresses. 
that Spain was one of the richest, rather 
than one of the poorest, countries in 
Europe. It is a source of perpetual 
wonder to a stranger in Spain, where the 
money comes from for the tens of thou- 
sands of soldiers and officers elegantly 
dressed, as well as for the luxury of 
private and public palaces and mansions. 
The wedding afforded the chance for a 
grand display of foreign uniforms. Lord 
Napier was magnificent in his scarlet, 
and was accompanied by some extremely 
handsome young Englishmen. The 
French Embassy shone like a golden 
star. The sombre blue-black of the 
Prussians stood out in bold relief against 
the splendors of the garments of their 
late enemies, the Austrians and the 



Gauls. The delegation of the belles of 
Vienna, who accompanied the arch- 
duchess, made the beautiful Madrid 
women handle their fans with as nervous 
and jealous an air as if they had been 
stilettoes. 

Alter the wedding came the visits of 
the legislative bodies, the Council of 
State, and the municipal organizations, 
to the palace ; ami on the following day 
was held a ceremonial which is seen in 
few monarchical countries, the Baise- 
main, or a defile before the king and 
queen at the palace, and the kissing of 
the hitter's hand by all the represent- 
atives of all the different branches of 
the national authority. This was a 
brilliant reception which repeated the 
splendors of the gathering in the Atocha 
chapel. The Council of State arrived 
at the palace in a lot of old carriages, 
which looked as if they were invented 
before the time of Columbus, as very 
likely they were. The royal palace is 
very grand within, though it is not very 
impressive without. In the great Hall 
of the Ambassadors, the young king 
stood in front of his throne, with the 
new queen on his right, looking very 
pale and pretty in her splendid gar- 
ments, laden with embroideries and cov- 
ered with golden fleurs-de-lis. On her 
head she wore a golden crown, gar- 
nished witli costly diamonds. Near her 
stood the Princess of the Asturias, 
dressed in rose-colored satin, and the 
king's two other sisters in faille rose. 
Not far from the king and queen stood 
the Court, a brilliant collection of all 
the ladies and gentlemen of rank in 
the kingdom, the representatives at the 
Court and the generals of the army. 
The ceremonial required that no one 
should touch the king's hand with his 
or with her hand, but only with the 
lips, and that after having used the 



EUROPE IN STORM A.Y/t CALM. 



97 



pocket-handkerchief. Doha Isabel re- 
ceived in her own rooms in another 
wing of the palace, and the day finished 
with a grand ball at the opera. 

Five years have passed since the 
wedding, and the young king is still in 
his place, although revolution lias sev- 
eral times raised its head. The strength 
of his position is due merely to the in- 
numerable petty differences of the Lib- 
erals, and to the weakness of the lower 
classes, because of their ignorance. 
Out of the sixteen or seventeen mil- 
lions of people in Spain not more than 
one-fourth can claim acquaintance with 
the accomplishments of reading and 
writing. Furthermore, the knowledge 
of events transpiring in the outside 
world is so limited that a campaign 
speaker, if he were allowed by the gov- 
ernment any chance to express hi:.; 
views, would scarcely be understood 
by his constituents or by those whom 
he desired to make his constituents. 
Even rich peasants and men of high 
rank are grossly ignorant of what is 
transpiring in their own country. The 
perpetual " I don't know," with which 
every question is answered in Spain, 
becomes exasperating to a stranger. 
The facilities for anything like rapid 
intercommunication are so limited that 
the masses mingle hut little together. 
Each remains rooted to his place, sur- 
rounded by a flowering growth of tra- 
ditions, superstitions, and prejudices. 
Each imagines that an army which can 
act as mediator in any important dis- 
pute is a good thing, and it seems as 
natural to a Spaniard to hear the trum- 
pets sound tin- death-knell of a short- 
lived revolution as to note the ringing 
of the vesper bells in the old cathedral 
which easts its shadow on his dwelling. 

The monarchists are very fond of re- 
minding Castelar that when he was 



president of the short-lived Republic 
he found it necessary to become Dicta- 
tor, and that, at Carthagena and else- 
where he had announced that one of 
the principal needs of Spain was more 
infantry, more cavalry, and more artil- 
lery. In short, monarchy finds an 
excuse for its existence in the assump- 
tion that it alone can maintain order. 
When the people cease to believe this, 
anil are united, some great convulsion, 
like that at Valencia, will take place in 
each of the principal cities and districts, 
ami — But we will not prophesy. 

I have spoken of Castelar, who is 
undoubtedly the greatest Spaniard of 
his time, and towers like a giant even 
among the celebrities with whom he is 
surrounded. Madrid is tilled with 
scholars, poets, and men of letters, 
whose reputation ought, although it 
does not succeed in doing so, to cross 
the Pyrenees. There are notable poets 
and romancers in Spain, who are quite 
the equals, if not in some respects the 
superiors, of their French contempora- 
ries. 

The gentlemen who are liberal and re- 
publican in sentiment are grouped about 
Castelar. and at the private receptions in 
the capital politics and literature are 
carefully and earnestly discussed, al- 
though in the newspapers and in public 
halls the government would forbid such 
license. I was glad of an opportunity 
to meet Castelar in his own house, and 
at one of his weekly receptions, which 
tool; place a day or two after the con- 
clusion of the wedding festivities. Senor 
Castelar was not seen in public during 
these festivals, although he is by no 
means shunned by the royal family, all 
of whom have the most cordial admira- 
tion for his talents. 

Castelar lives in the Calle de Serrano, 
in a line new quarter of Madrid, in one 



98 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



of those huge apartment-houses which 
the Spaniards have built in imitation of 
those in Paris and Vienna. The orator 
and statesman receives once or twice a 
week ; but as he is a bachelor, residing 
with his sister, who has always cared for 
his household affairs, he has only gentle- 
men at his entertainments. The deputies, 
journalists, poets, novelists, savants, 
come and go in the most informal fashion. 
I found the great orator in one of his 
good moods, when he felt like talking, and 
discovered that when he was in this vein 
everybody listened with reverence ami 
attention. There is a rare magnetism in 
his presence, which is peculiarly fascinat- 
ing. An impression of superabundant 
vitality, an infinite reservoir, from which 
he can. freely draw at unexpected moments 
for sudden and unlooked-for inspiration, 
is always gained from a conversation 
with Castelar. lie is one of the men 
horn under a happy star. Dowered with 
strange ami peculiar gifts, lie combines 
the richness of a poetic nature with the 
forethought and sagacity of a patriot and 
politician. Perhaps there are those who 
would deny Castelar the union of these 
two qualities, hut time will show (hat he 
possesses them in high degree. 

Castelar does not look as if the world 
wearied him. lie is still young and 
active, and full of the Spanish politeness 
and grace, lie has a noble, animated 
face, firm, and full of decision, and a 
pair of well-made lips, shaded by a 
dense black mustache. The lop of the 
head is bald, — a tribute paid to hard 
study. He is quite unostentatious in 
dress and manner. In conversation he 
expressed the liveliest sympathy and 
admiration for the United States, and 
especially for the talents of Mr. James 
Russell Lowell, who was so acceptable 
a minister to .Madrid. " I was," said 
Castelar, " a firm friend to the North 



during the revolution of the Southern 
States against the general government, 
and sometimes I had to encounter for- 
midable opposition." This led to a great 
debate on the slavery question of Cuba, 
which was then pending in the Cortes. 
Castelar said little concerning the future 
of Cuba, except that there was no longer 
dancer of its being a bone of contention 
between Spain and the United States. 
He said in the debate he should be found 
as usual on tin 1 side of liberty, and in 
favor of emancipation of every wretched 
black in Cuba. 

I asked Castelar if he felt that the 
Republic would come again in Spain. 
" Most certainly." he said ; " the country 
is republican. The restored monarchy 
has not taken root. Republican princi- 
ples are well enough established in the 
public mind, but they are not entirely 
understood, (heat numbers of our peo- 
ple still have a certain fondness for ab- 
solutism." A moment afterwards he 
alluded in a jocose vein to the great 
number of constitutions which Spain has 
promulgated within the last two genera- 
tions, lie lias a profound contempt for 
those politicians who fancied that the\ 
could make the Spanish people all over 
in a day by writing them a creed to live 
under. Castelar did good work during 
his brief tenure of executive power. He 
did not hesitate to break away from the 
project in favor of federalism when he 
saw it was doing the country harm. If 
tile assembly had not been weak and 
vacillating he would not have been com- 
pelled to resign, ami the Spanish Repub- 
lic might have been in existence to-day. 
He drove the spectres of socialism and 
extreme federalism back to the darkness 
out of which they had come. He insisted 
upon the necessity of education. When 
he demanded the renewal of his powers 
by the Assembly, iu January. 1874, he set 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



99 



down as a cardinal principle, that theeraof 
popular uprising and pronunciamientos 
must be closed forever. But Pavia with 
his troops came in, and, said Castelar, 
it was too late. There was uot a more 
deserted man in Spain 
than himself. So Serrano 
took up the burden of 
power, and carried it 
until the arrival of the 
young Alfonso. 

" Castelar," said a 
Spanish nobleman to me, 
" is the republican party 
in Spain. Without him 
it would fall into a hun- 
dred fragments. He puts 
the breath of life into 
its nostrils. If he were 
to withdraw his support 
from it, it would expire 
of inanition." Another 
influential Spanish gen- 
tleman said that Castelar 
was impracticable and 
unworldly to a certain 
extent in many things, 
but possessed the exact 
knowledge of the (■(in- 
flicting elements of Span- 
ish Republicanism neces- 
sary to bring out of them 
the little harmony possi- 
ble. Castelar learned 
Opportunism from Gam- 
betta ; in fact, he would, 
I think, be willing to 
admit this. If he is an 
Opportunist to-day it is 
because he has seen 
that little can be ac- 
accomplished in a day or a mouth in re- 
establishing liberty, but that the slow 
progress of years alone can give impor- 
tant results. After the flight of Dona 
Isabel and the uprising of Cariists, Mod- 



erates, Communists, Progressists, Mon- 
archical Democrats, and Republicans 
desirous of federal form, and after the 
dazzling events from 1868 until the 
" Restoration," he is justified in suppos- 




CASTELAR AT HOME. 

ing that the country needs rest before 
venturing upon a final effort for the re- 
establishment of her ancient liberties. 

Castelar in the Legislative Assembly as 
an orator is a demigod. Gambetta at 



100 EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 

limes was wonderful. Castelar is often control. One might almost fancy him 

siililiiiir. Gambetta had electric effects at these times a school-boy about to 

of eloquence which appalled and some- speak his first piece ; but when once he 

times annihilated his enemies. Castelar has begun, in sonorous voice, everything 

seems to lift his hearers into the seventh like tear vanishes, and he pours forth a 

heaven, and to move them with him flood of irresistible argument, clothed in 

among the golden vapors of the dawn, exquisitely felicitous language. It is 

Gambetta was crushing: Castelar is odd that Castelar's voice, which in ordi- 

persnasive. Gambetta was vindictive; nary conversation has a certain soft, 

Castelar is of too large a mould to con- feminine quality in it, is clear, robust, 

descend to vengeance. Both orators will and harmonious in the tribune. When he 

be chronicled in history as having pos- is tremendously excited, as on the occa- 

sessed unlimited command of metaphors sion of his meat speech in favor of 

and lovely imagery, never degenerating liberty of conscience and freedom of 

into the commonplace. Castelar says public worship, made in April of 1869, 

that he is nervous on days when he is the voice is inexpressibly "rand. One 

to speak in the Cortes. He wanders seems to hear the soul speaking without 

about restlessly among his friends, ex- any hindrance whatever, 
pressing doubts as to his power of self- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



101 



CHAPTER TEN. 

The Bull-Fight in Madrid before the King and Queen. — Eight Hulh Slaughtered. — A Strange Sport. 
— Excitement of the Populace — The Matador.— Duels between Men and Beasts. 



AT one of the exhibitions of paint- 
ings in the Paris Palace of indus- 
try a promising American artist showed 
a picture of a combat between an As- 
syrian monarch and a lion in an 
arena, where thousands of spectators 
were assembled to witness the daring of 
their king. As I sat in the Piaza de 
Toros of the Spanish capital on the oc- 
casion of the great bull-fight given in 
celebration of the wedding festivities of 
King Alfonso and Queen Christina, 
while watching the bull who had jusl 
bounded in from his cage and was stand- 
ing with his head proudly raised, eying 
the populace of Madrid and the gayly 
uniformed butchers awaiting hint, — this 
picture came distinctly before my 
eyes, and I was startled by the thought, 
that, in our modern day, more than nine- 
teen centuries after the inauguration of 
an era supposed to be one of mercy, 
forbearance, and peace, the world is as 
brutal and unmerciful as ever it was in the 
dim ages of barbarism. I cannot explain 
the revolt which then took place in my 
spirit; I might call it an insurrection 
of conscience, because I had allowed 
myself to have assisted at so murderous 
and bloody a sport as a bull-light. 1 
defy any one who has not been hardened 
to this monstrous sight, to feel otherwise 
than criminal when he first gets an idea 
of the atrocious horror of it. But enough 
of preliminary moralizing. 

When the royal wedding was an- 
nounced it was naturally decided that 
bull-lights should lie among the festivi- 



ties. Had there been any disposition 
to refuse them there might have been 
something like a riot. Time has been 
when the people in the immense plaza 
have cried out, " Death to the Mayor! " 
because he would not allow them to wit- 
ness the killing of one or two more bulls 
than were promised in the programme. 
"Bread and Shows" were the necessities 
which not even tyrants dared deny the 
ancient Romans. - v Bread and Bulls, 
Pan y Toros," are the prime needs of 
the modern Spaniards. Not even the 
gentlest Spanish woman finds it extraor- 
dinary that her children should witness 
a bull-light. In Madrid there are 
twenty-four exhibitions yearly : on Mon- 
days, from April to October, or some- 
times on Sundays, — Cor Sunday is in 
Spain, as in France, the people's favorite 
holiday. All over Spain there are bull- 
rings which rival the colossal dinien- 
sionsofthe amphitheatres of the Romans. 
Valencia possesses one, which, at a dis- 
tance, looks as imposing as the Roman 
Coliseum. •• And what ! " say the Span- 
iards ; •• what ! shall we give up a game 
inaugurated by him of illustrious ami 
immortal memory, the Cid Campeador : 
he who, in the arena, with his own lance, 
slew wild bulls by the score?" 

The Arabs have the credit of introduc- 
ing the cruel pastime into Spain ; but it 
was the Cid who gave it its real impetus. 
After he had set the example all the 
youths of the nobility copied it, and at 
solemn festivals the corrida de toros 
was one of the main features. The 



102 



ECROFE IN STORM AND CALM. 



honor of fighting the bull on great days 
was accorded only to the nobility. An 
ordinary mortal was not supposed to 
possess the requisite strength and sci- 
ence. Throughout the middle ages bull- 
fighting was the favorite amusement of 
warriors in these southern lands. When 
Isabel the Catholic tried to prohibit the 
ghastly fun she found she did not pos- 
sess influence enough to do it. After her 
time the sport became so popular that 
Charles the Great did not disdain with 
his own hand to slay a bull upon the 
market-place of Valladolid. Pizarro, 
who conquered Peru, was a brave bull- 
fighter, and so was King Sebastian of 
Portugal. Philip III. adorned the bull- 
ring of Madrid with statues and banners ; 
Philip IV. fought therein: Charles II. 
loved the game; Philip V. issued an 
otlieial order that bull-rings should he 
constructed throughout the kingdom. 

Ail these days no man of the people 
was allowed to enter the arena, ami it 
was not until the middle of the eigh- 
teenth century that peasants and com- 
mon folk in general were permitted to 
become professional toreros. Francisco 
Romero de Ronda introduced the usage 
of fighting the hull on foot, sword in 
hand ; and from his time date the fixed 
rules of this difficult art. which in our 
days have had such illustrious professors 
as Frascuelo, Lagartijo, and Alonzo. 
Queen Isabel was an enthusiastic patron 
of the sport. Amadeo. of Italy, pre- 
tended to like it, while lie was King of 
Spain ; hut it is to lie presumed that his 
delicate and refined nature suffered tor- 
tures at the sight. How can the present 
king refuse to attend upon and support 
with all his influence an institution as 
truly national in Spain as the Sabbath- 
school in the United States? 

The Plaza de Toros of Madrid is 
supposed by dint of much crowding 



to accommodate sixteen thousand per- 
sons, although there are seats for only a 
few more than twelve thousand. For 
the two courses in honor of the royal 
wedding festivities there were more 
than fifty thousand applicants above the 
number which could he accommodated. 
Theoretically, no tickets were sold, and 
every one was invited ; but I will not 
dwell on that point, as, through the 
courtesy of Setior Saturnino Esteban 
Collantes, deputy in the Cortes, and a 
gentleman of distinction. I received in- 
vitations for both occasions. Hundreds 
of people from Madrid. Vienna, and 
London went away growling and disap- 
pointed, because they could not succeed 
in gaining admission. The tickets of 
invitation were conceived as follows: — 







Plaza 


he Toros 








La 


Corrii 


a Extraordinaria 






Cim 


motivo 


del Regio E 


nlace 








Ten 


lido Num. 






E 


te billete es 


de convite 


v lie 


puede 


vein 


erse. 


El contraventor 


sera 


puesto 


a dis 


iPcsici 


m de 1. 


Autor idad. 







There were several thousand guests of 
rank and importance to place, for the 
ambassadors extraordinary of the Aus- 
trian delegation which accompanied the 
archduchess, now* become the Queen of 
Spain, had brought in their train half 
the fashionable world. So there re- 
mained small place for the populace; 
yet the populace was there. How it 
got in I do not know; but there it was, 
palpitating with savage delight at every 
pitiful throe of disembowelled horse or 
dying bull, yelling maledictions upon an 
unsuccessful picador or capeador, and 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



103 



breaking forth into the most extravagant 
expressions of delight and affection 
when an espada did his work well. 

The bull-ring, to call it by the prosaic 
English term, which best translates the 
high-sounding Plaza de Toros, is about 
a mile and a half from the centre of the 
city, on the outskirts of the barren plains 
which environ Madrid. It is reached by 
passing a superb archway, erected by 
Charles III., on the hill overlooking the 
Prado and the surrounding country, and 
thence by a long avenue, bordered on 
either hand by elegant mansions, superb 
villas, and finally by manufactories, 
slaughter-houses, forges, and all the 
unsavory and unsightly appendages of a 
great city. On the day of this bull-light 
the crowd, the invited and the uninvited, 
all went in a long procession down the 
broad and handsome Calle de Alcala, 
past the Prado, and through the gardens 
and avenues, in delighted haste, anxious 
to note every detail of the festival. 
Hundreds of omnibuses, tilled with holi- 
day-makers, pushed madly towards the 
centre of attraction. I will spare the 
reader any account of the epithets which 
the drivers of these vehicles applied to 
their horses, as few of the words are 
suited to Saxon ears polite. Men, 
women, and children, dressed with ex- 
cellent taste, hurried to the plaza with 
anticipations of joy written on their 
features. The beggars forgot to beg 
as they watched the lords and ladies. 
Brown Andalnsians, in tattered cloaks, 
once magnificent, gazed sharply, as if 
picking out the person whom they had 
been told to assassinate. Muleteers and 
merchants, foreigners and natives, beau- 
ties and hags, old and young, poured 
along the roadways, babbling open-lipped 
and merrily; and when they reached the 
yawning gate of the ring they ran tuinnlt- 
uously through the lines of gendarmes 



to their appointed places, as if fearful 
lest they might lose a single detail of the 
performance. 

The ring is solidly built, and the gates 
through which the animals are admitted 
are of immense thickness. Huge corri- 
dors run round it, between the seats and 
the outer wall, and doors open upon 
stairways which lead to the various gal- 
leries. The politeness of Sehor C'ollantes 
IkmI placed me in the front rank in the 
lower gallery, in what we should call an 
orchestra stall in a theatre, and at a 
point from whence I could well observe 
the king and queen and their suite. 
Once or twice during the afternoon it 
seemed to me that my seat was decidedly 
too near the ring, and 1 should have been 
glad to move. 

I had not been long seated before I 
discovered that the audience, or collec- 
tion of on-lookers. was intensely excited. 
Shouts arose answering shouts. The 
vast arena seemed to tremble under the 
concussion of sound. The arrival of any 
well-known person was the signal for a 
roar, which must have made the bulls 
quake in their prison. Officials ran to 
and fro, settling disputes between new- 
comers ; water-carriers and cigar-sellers 
screamed out the virtues of their wares, 
and from the upper galleries came clam- 
ors for the appearance of the popular 
favorites. The balconies were sumptu- 
ously decorated with orange and yellow, 
and with red velvet ; and crowns and 
coats-of-arms in different places indicated 
the presence of nobility. High up above 
all the galleries save one was the royal 
loge; and, hearing the band playing the 
march which announced the arrival of 
the King, I turned to see him. 

Alfonso XII. arrived briskly, dressed 
in a captain-general's uniform, with a 
cap entirely covered with gold lace. He 
had much improved in appearance since 



104 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

his residence in Paris tmd Vienna. Side- mounted on starved-looking horses, came 
whiskers and mustache gave a manly the picadors, wicked fellows, clad in 
look t" his face, and his manners were braided jackets, buckskin hose, gar- 
simple and unaffected. The young nished within with stiff iron supports, 
Queen wore a white mantilla upon her so that when their horses fell upon them 
glossy braids. She sat down beside the they might not have their legs broken. 
King on the front rank, and there soon These picadors were armed with enoi- 
appeared behind the youthful pair the mous lances, pointed with sharp blades, 
benevolent faces of numerous venerable Next in order was a small army of 
Spanish and Austrian generals. Next servants, dressed in scarlet jackets 
came Doha Isabel and her pretty daugh- (forsooth, in a bull-ring!), and the rear 
ters, and then an enormous following of was brought up with teams of mules, 
Indies and gentlemen of the Court, who harnessed three abreast, and driven by 
took possession of either side of the bal- picturesque brigands, whose duty was to 
cony. A large delegation of Austrian be the clearing of the ring of the dead 
officers, their breasts glittering with horses and hulls encumbering it. The 
dozens of decorations, sat on the side procession wheeled round in front of the 
next the Queen. Alfonso XII. took up royal loge, and every person in it made 
his opera glass, and surveyed the audi- low hows, to which the King responded 
ence. When the royal inarch was tin- by a, still' military salute. The trum- 
ished he raised his handkerchief, and pets sounded loudly, ami (he procession 
made a signal. A chorus of bugles went its ways, breaking up into fragments 
sounded from a balcony opposite (he in various places in the 1 ling. In front 
Kino- and Queen. Gates were thrown of the series of galleries which led to the 
..pen just beneath this balcony, ami royal box, and directly in the ring, stood 
there entered — a large corps of halberdiers, without any 
No, — not a bull, but a long and stately protection. The mishaps of these gen- 
procession, which transported us back to tlemeii at arms at frequent intervals 
(he days <>f chivalry. First came (he during the performance were sources of 
masters of ceremonies, dressed in Court immense and long-continued merriment 
suits of black velvet, and mounted on to the crowd, 
prancing steeds. Next followed a And now the picadors, on their horses, 

drummer on horseback, a large drum held their lances at rest ; (he marshals 

suspended on either side of his horse's retired I" a corner, looking somewhat 

saddle. Then came lour heralds, sound- uneasy ; the corps of capt adors, matadors, 

in" bugles ; alguazils;a provincial dele- and esjxtdas approached the barrier of 

gation ; then, in state carriages, the the ring, behind which ran a. corridor 

protectors of the toreadors of the occa- separating us, the spectators, by a short 

sion. These protectors are gentlemen of distance from the arena.. This corridor 

rank, who deign to confer the shallow was patrolled by gendarmes, court offl- 

of their dignity on the popular favorites, cials in black, and by the friends of the 

Beside these coaches, glittering in satin performers in the ling. There were a 

costumes in which all the colors of few moments of silence; then a deep 

tin' rainbow were inextricably mingled, " Ah !" burst from the assemblage, and, 

walked (he men who were to fight (he looking over across the ring. I saw a 

bulls on foot; while behind (hem, magnificent bull standing in front of the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



105 



1*1 




106 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



gates, which were closing behind him. 
The Queen had given the signal with her 
handkerchief. 1 looked up at her, and 
she had half risen from her seat, as 
though she were anxious to go away. 
But an instant after she sat down again, 
and was apparently calm. 

The bull took a careful look at every- 
body- He seemed good-natured, and I 
thought that if 1 had been near him 1 
should have liked to pull his tail. Hut 
what was ray surprise when he advanced 
with a long "lope," which quickly 
changed into a wild run; and before 
any one could divert his attention he 
had plunged his horns into the Hanks of 
the horse of one of the masters of cere- 
monies. The poor beast darted forward, 
the blood gushing from his wounds, and 
the spectators began to yell to their 
favorites — the men in satin and rainbow 
colors — to begin the combat. At once 
an agile fellow sprang directly in front 
of the bull, holding a bright red cloak 
before the infuriated animal's eyes. 
Master bull made a lunge at it. The 
nimble cape-bearer stepped aside, and 
another fluttered an orange-colored cloak 
at the bull's nose. Then half-a-dozen 
others appeared. The bull did not know 
which way to turn. He pawed the earth ; 
he snorted. Suddenly', selecting one 
who was most daring, he went after him 
with such vindictive force that the man 
puled, ran, and lightly as a feather 
leaped the barrier unhurt. The bull 
turned to another. Up and away went 
the airy fellow, almost between the bull's 
horns; yet safe, and grinning with the 
excitement. 

The bull was now terrible in his wrath ; 
and at this moment he noted a picador, 
sitting motionless on his horse, with his 
lance ready. I arose inmyseat, and, if 
I could, I should have fled, for it iced 
my blood to see both rider and horse go 



into tlie air. and the next moment to 
witness the agonies Of the disembowelled 
horse. The picador was lying beneath 
his beast. Was he dead ? No. He was 
helped up, looking black and ugly, and 
betook off his hat to the King What, 
had he done? There was a gaping 
wound in the bull's shoulders, and the 
bull had withdrawn a few paces, and was 
thinking what to do next. Around him 
once more were fluttering the agile 
capeadors; capes ami cloaks were danc- 
ing before the bull's vision. lie rushed 
hither and von, aiming at death ami de- 
struction. What was my horror to sec 
the horse which had just been gored 
once more in the fray, his merciless rider 
charging him down upon the bull, while 
the entrails dragged on the ground. 
Some Spaniards laughed ; others, more 
merciful, shouted, "Fuera!" (Out with 
the horse). lint no; the bull had him 
once more on his horns, and tore and 
rent him. while the picador, lying coolly 
behind the dying creature, lacerated the 
Hank of his antagonist. It was horrible. 
I looked up at the young Queen. She 
had turned her eyes away, but a moment 
later, at the intimation of the King, she 
made a signal. 

Trumpets sounded, and the picador 
was extricated from his perilous position, 

while the men with the capes occupied 
the bull's attention. This was the signal 
to retire tin 1 horses, and to let the bande- 
rilleros begin their work. The bande- 
rillero comes on at the second stage of a 
bull-light. I felt glad to see the horses 
retire, and I noticed that I no longer felt 
sorry for the bull, since I had seen how 
devilish he was in his work'. I was glad 
to know that it was to be put out of the 
way. Probably 1 was becoming brutal- 
ized. 

The bull was enraged because the 
horses were withdrawn, but thus far he 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



107 



felt that he had had the best of it. 
Still he looked his antagonists over in 
his steady, resolved way, and seemed 
saying to them, " What will yon have 
next? " 

He was not long without an answer. 
A daring fellow, in green tights, white 
silk stockings, and a jacket blazing with 
gold and jewels, ran up in front of him, 
holding in each hand a flexible dart, en- 



in the bull was aroused ; his motions 
were twice as rapid as before. Thou- 
sands of voices were screaming advice 
from the benches: Rafael, mind your 
steps! Well, well ! Muybien! Lagar- 
tijo I demonio ! Anda! Anda! Now, 
run for it! Hombrel What an ass! 
burro! burrito! Go home and bury 
yourself. Fuera! Caramba! There he 
had it! O my angel! O Alonzo ! 




THE BULL HAS THE BEST OF IT. 



veloped in straw at one end. Quick as 
lightning the bull sprang at him, hut the 
man went to one side, and the two darts 
were sticking in the animal's neck. Itwas 
as swift as thought. Thebanderillosm&de 
the bull crazy with rage. He shook him- 
self, but they entered more deeply into 
the skin ; he foamed at the mouth ; he 
was terrible. He ran at a knot of his 
enemies, and frightened them so that 
they fled in coufusion, leaping the barrier. 
But others came ; new banderillos were 
stuck in the poor brute's hide. They 
whizzed through the air, some of them 
bearing little bauners. Now all the devil 



Bravo! Here he comes! Es mi toro! 
Idiot! Can't you throw? Look out — 
lookout — lookout! Is he dead? No, 
not even scratched, but rather pale. Ah ! 
the bull's tongue is out. No no I Si si ! 
No hombre! Si Caballero! Oh! oh! 
oh! Dios! Enough, enough of bande- 
rillos! La Espada! The matador, — 
where is the killer, the brave, the beautiful 
matador? Ah! there he is ! See! He 
is coining ! How beautiful his costume ! 
'T'is satin. Ho.'ho.'Iio! La Espada I 
Hist! There he is, kneeling before the 
king ! Now he takes off his hat and 
raises his arm. Now he makes his 



108 EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM 

speech, and thrusts his cap away with a applauded with his white-gloved hands, 
great sweeping gesture. It is us if he And the spectators! It was Bedlam. 
threw away his life al the same time. The hull struggled, hul the dreadful 
Si, Hombre! Bravo Turn! Bravo el sword sapped his life. He rushed and 
matador! Ho! ho! h'>! ho! ho-o-o-o-o! ran, frothing, upon the agile cloak-bear- 
Cararnba!" ers. They decamped, hut returned as 
Then a great silence fell. they saw the poor animal walk away a 
The matador took a red cloak in his short distance and lie down, with his 
hand, holding concealed beneath it a tongue out. They tlew to him, .and be- 
sword, short and stout of blade. He gan to tempi him to a renewal of the 
stepped gracefully and briskly to the contest.. This was most piteous of all. 
bull, and held the red cloak directly I Ie looked up at them with glazing eves, 
before bis eyes. Bull flew at it. The out. of which all brutish malice had de- 
matador made a false step, saved himself, parted, as the great mystery of death 
ami looked up, pale and quivering, to overtook him, and he seemed struggling to 
hear a tempest of maledictions. Thehull say, "Conic, caballeros, this is not fair, 
was after him again, and followed him. 1 am hurt and down, and there are too 
Lightly as thistledown tlew to the rescue many of von ! 1 did not intend to carry 
a dozen capeador.i, who fluttered their it so far." In short, the bull seemed 
cloaks in the bull's vision until he was humanized, and the men brutalized, at 
diverted from his victim. Then they this moment. I forgot, about the gored 
gradually brought him to a stand-still, horse. One of the executioners took a 
and the matador came before him anew, short, dagger, drove it into the spina! 
Now began a horrible duel between marrow of the animal, anil the trumpets 
man and beast. The cloth was within sounded. The first fight was over. The 
the bull's reach. lie plunged at it. and 1 mil fell on his side, and the gayly capar- 
seemed to annihilate the matador. But isoned mules came in and dragged him 
no; the man was always out. of reach, ignominiously awav. 
and his gleaming blade was playing in Then the >u<tht<hir came forward to 
the aii'. The bull was at hand. The receive the compliments of the spectators 
cloak was before him. Ssst ! Down for his final adroit sword-thrust. His 
Came the sword between the animal's name was rapturously shouted ten thou- 
fore-shouldcrs. But the bull, with a noble sand times. Hats rained upon him, and 
and impetuous motion, threw it out of the he tossed them back to their owners 
wound, from which the blood poured in until his arms ached. Young swells 
large streams. The matador drew an- threw their cloaks down to him that he 
Other sword, and the duel began again. might walk upon them. Cigars, fruit, 
Each time that he stabbed the beast hut and money were cast at him. He re- 
slightlv the crowd cursed him. Then tired proud and contented. Had he 
he redoubled his energy, and seemed to been unsuccessful he would have re- 
lose his prudence. [By and by he made ceived sticks and stones upon his huinil- 
a flying leap. Every one stood up, think- iated head. 

ing to see him gored to death. Hut no; We had shorl respite. The trumpets 

he stood some yards away, pointing to the sounded; the picadors reappeared, and 

bull, in whose shoulders a sword was a new bull burst into the arena. This 

planted I > the hilt. The King languidly animal wasted no time. II" drove all 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



10!) 



the cape-flutterers out of the ring, killed 
a horse in less than two minutes, sent 
a picador off on a stretcher, and took a 
tremendous dive at the Ii<ill><T<lii j rK, who 
received him with lowered spears, hut 
with blanching faces. lie broke one or 
two of their spear-blades, kicked at 
them contemptuously, gored a second 
horse ; but here his star began to pale, 
for he received a terrific lance wound. 
This sobered him, and seemed to exhaust 
his energies. The capes could no lon- 
ger excite him. A spry and deft man 
pulled his tail, and stole the rosette from 
his back. He was no giant with a lance 
wound. The only thing which he did 
was mercifully to finish the second 
horse, which was in convulsions of 
agony. Then the banderittos were planted 
in his neck, and a new matador finally 
despatched him. The crowd grew im- 
patient, and were glad when he was 
dead. He had promised well, but fin- 
ished badly. His debut as an artist was 
meteoric; his career tame. Thus often 
in human life ; hut no matter about the 
moral. 

Once more the trumpets, and another 
bull. It took him some time to realize 
the situation, but when he did realize it lie 
proceeded to business with an energy far 
superior to that of his immediate prede- 
cessor. He did not like the ring, and he 
leaped out of it. It seemed impossible 
for him to do it; hut he did it, knocking 
down half-a-dozen people in the corridor 
before mentioned. I was horrified to 
sir him. as the door was opened to let 
him in again, tossing a gendarme on his 
horns. The unhappy man turned over 
and over. His sword fell from its 
sheath, and he was carried out. when the 
bull's attention had been diverted from 

him, covered with hi 1 and wounds. 

The bull ran up and down once or twice, 
engaged in a tremendous duel with a 



picador, who was too much for him, and 
even kept him from goring his horse. 
This hull in his turn submitted to the 
agony of the banderittos and the duel 
with the matador, who prolonged the 
animal's life so that the crowd execrated 
him because he had done much harm, 
and then sold his life dearly. 

And so. one after another, during al- 
most four hours, we saw eight hulls 
slaughtered. The only animals which 
were really terrifying were the third and 
the eighth. One of them was so in- 
dignant at a cape-bearer, who shook a 
red cloak in his face, that he followed 
him right over the barrier, causing an 
immense burst of laughter. In truth 
the sight was irresistibly comical. 1 
thought of the Yankee phrase about the 
man who was '•hurried over" the fence 
by the hull. This same animal charged 

the halberdiers twice; but they tilled 
his skin full of holes and put out one of 
his eyes. There were one or two fright- 
ful half-hours in this strange afternoon: 
half-hours, when a bull, dying, gored 
the horse which he had already slain; 
when the odor of death arose from the 
ring; when the smell of blood seemed 
to put savagery into all our souls; when 
we felt a grim joy in each new wound 
inflicted on the bull, and when the flit- 
ting corps of executioners seemed en- 
dowed with supernatural skill. The 
last bull, which had not promised well 
at first, turned out to be :> master 
fighter, and the principal matador hail 
to use all his skill to bring him to his 
knees. The manner in which the hull 
looked at the matador had something 
awful in it. something so inexpressible 
that I w ill not try to define it 

The King and < v >ueen tried to retire 

when the seventh bull had been de- 
spatched ; but the people would not hear 
of it. They cried, "■Otro l<>r<>.' Otro 



110 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

turn!" (another bull), in thunderous horses which had been their victims 

unison, and the King yielded. It must were lying- in a row. The amphitheatre, 

have been a severe trial for the Queen ; with its stone seats and blood-stained 

but she sat through it- all the while, and sands, seemed Roman rather than Spau- 

1 observed that towards the last she ish ; but Spanish it emphatically was. 

looked on all the time. One speedily The bulls slain at this royal festival 

becomes accustomed to the spectacle, were furnished from the estates of dif- 

horrid as it is. So soon as the last bull ferent gentlemen, who take great pride 

was despatched, the thousands of per- in raising them. The local journals 

sons dispersed peaceably, and so dense publish the names of these gentry as 

was the throng that carriages and well as the pedigrees of the bulls. On 

pedestrians alike could only move at a the day following the first great corrida 

snail's pace. Tin 1 arena was wet with there was a second bull-light, at which 

lil 1. In a recess of one of the outer eight bulls were to be slain. Hut 1 did 

corridors the eight bulls and the seven not go; I had seen enough. 






EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Ill 



CHAPTER ELEVEN. 

The Famous Museum in Madrid. — The Palace of the Cortes. — Noted Tapestries. — A Visit to Toledo. — 
The Spanish Cloak and its Characters. — A Fonda. — Beggars. — The Grotto of Hercules. — The 
Alcazar. — In the Ancient Church. 



THE great museum of painting in 
Madrid is one of the finest in the 
world; and, for the lover of art, a 
ramble through its galleries is a rich 
compensation for the troubles and 
trials which he has hail in his journey 
across the Pyrenees and down through 
the strange wastes, alternated with rich 
fields and fertile valleys, of northern 
Spain. The Spanish masses, although 
so rudely ignorant, have a general respect 
for art, and I was struck with the fact, 
during the Revolution of 1869, that no- 
where in the peninsula were the rich 
treasures of art in any way disturbed 
or injured. Even in the monasteries, 
through which the vindictive crowds of 
Valencian peasantry poured in 1868 and 
1869, the paintings were not touched. 
There was none of the iconoclastic bru- 
tality of the Belgian mobs in the days 
when the Spaniard carried persecution 
into the north. The museum of the 
Prado, as it is generally called, was 
founded in 1735, under the reign of 
Charles III., and according to the plans 
of a famous architect named Villa Nueva. 
It was originally designed to receive col- 
lections illustrating natural history ; but 
King Ferdinand VII. brought together 
there the great numbers of paintings 
which had been scattered through the 
different royal palaces; and in 1819, 
after immense sums had been expended, 
the museum was opened to the public. 
It offers, like so many things in Spain, a 
curious contrast of magnificence aud 



meanness. Many of the corridors and 
halls are badly lighted, and insufficiently 
fitted for the display of the splendid 
canvases which adorn them. The works 
of the masters are huddled together 
without any particular attempt at ar- 
rangement, and even the most adroit 
student of art comes away from the 
Prado with a bad headache and a confused 
vision of Titian, Tintoretto, Michael 
Angelo, Correggio, Guido, Mantegna, 
Andrea del Sarto, Paul Veronese, Velas- 
quez. Goya, Murillo, and Ribera, float- 
ing before his eyes. The Flemish school 
is naturally well represented, for the 
Spaniard has had ample opportunity to 
make rich collections in the northern 
lands ; and the Rubens gallery is remark- 
able both for the splendor of the canvases 
and for the great number of them. The 
citizens of Madrid are especially proud 
of the specimens of the Spanish school 
of painting, particularly of those of 
Velasquez, who was a great favorite of 
King Philip IV., and who died in Madrid 
in 1660. There are threescore paintings 
from the hand of this noble artist in the 
Madrid Museum, and among the most 
celebrated of them are the famous 
"Christ on the Cross," — an admirable 
study of the nude of most elevated and 
startling realism ; the noted " Bor- 
rachos," the " Vulcan's Forge ; " the 
'• Surrender of Breda ; " and the won- 
derful " Menines." This celebrated pict- 
ure, which Luca Giardano called the 
" theology of paintiug," represents Velas- 



1 1 -J EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

quez engaged upon the portraits of a fine painting. In gems and jewels 

Philip IV. and others of the royal family, the Prado Museum is very rich, perhaps 

who are surrounded b\ their ladies of richer than any of the great museums 

honor, the officers of the palace and their in Paris and London, 
dwarfs. This dazzling page of color, Bui in public buildings Madrid is 

and the other equally remarkable picture, almost us poor as American cities which 

known to art lovers as the " Fileuses," only date from the beginning of this 

appear to justify the extravagant note century. The Royal Palace is medi- 

of praise sounded by a French critic, who ocre in appearance. The Opera-house 

said thai it seemed as it' the hand of is plain and unimposiug. The Palace of 

Velasquez had taken no part in the the Cortes, where the legislative bodies 

execution of his works, but thai all of assemble; the Archaeological Museum, 

theni had been created by a pure act of and the Palace of St. Ferdinand, an- not 

volition on his part. In the Prado especially striking, although the facade 

there are also forty-six pictures from the of the Palace of the Cortes is decorated 

hand of Murillo ; and Ribera, the great with two noble lions in bronze, the work 

naturalist, is represented by fifty-eighl of the sculptor Ponzano, and moulded 

pictures, almost Shakespearian in their out of the bronze cannons taken in the 

variety of manner, composition, and old campaign in Morocco. In the 

style. Of Morales, of the amusing, Royal Palace is one of the most ample 

touching, and sometimes terrible, pictures collections of tapestries in the world, and 

of Goya, there is little room to speak here, this is reckoned among one of the chief 

One is Idl to inquire how it is that riches of the domain of the Spanish 

foreign scl Is of ait are so much better crown. It is said that there are more 

represented in this vast and splendid than eight hundred of these tapestries, 

museum than the Spanish school; and most of them extremely interesting from 

one soon learns that the accumulation of an historical as well as an artistic point 

these treasures of the Italian and the of view. Among the most noted of the 

Flemish school was made during the cen- compositions is the Conquest of Tunis, 

tin -valid a half when Spain was mistress of by Charles V. This merits a few words 

Italy and Flanders; when she had the of description. The original designs 

treasures from the two Americas floating were the work of Jehan Cornelius \ er- 

in steady streams into her coffers, and may, known in Flanders under the name 

when the kings of Spain were the best of dan Mel de Baar; in Spain he was 

patrons of men like Titian and Rubens, sometimes called Barba Longa, the ori- 

Velasquez was twice sent into Italy by gin of which name is easily traced. lie 

Philip IV., with orders to buy the best came into Spain from Flanders in 1534, 

pictures he could find without any refer- called thither by Charles V.. who took 

nee to economy in price. The Spanish him along to Tunis, thai he might per- 

royalty, too, took advantage of the petuate, in tapestry, the presumable 

auction sale of the gallery of King glories of the expedition. Charles came 

Charles I., of England, in 1648; and. home successful from his campaign ; and 

furthermore, it was the fashion for all in 1546 Vermay had finished his compo- 

thc Spanish grandees, al least once sitious illustrative of the different battles 

during the reign of a sovereign, to and victories. Yet it was not until 1554 

present to him some artistic gift, usually that the designs. had been reproduced in 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



113 



tapestry. Six years and a half the webs 
were on the looms. The artist, it is 
curious to note, who made the designs, 
was paid but 1,800 florins, while the 
master-worker in tapestry received 
14,570 florins, besides which he was 
paid 8,500 florins for gold thread, 6,600 
livres for silks, which had been dyed in 
Granada in sixty different dyes. Another 
tapestry illustrates the Acts of the 
Apostles. It, is not only in the royal 
palaces that tapestries of value are to he 
found. Hundreds of impoverished Span- 
ish families still possess, stowed away in 
garrets, or hung, floating in some windy 
corridor of their decaying mansions, 
tapestries, which, if their pride would 
allow them to sell them, would keep them 
comfortably provided with money for 
many a year. A rich amateur. American 
or English, occasionally makes an ex- 
cursion into the peninsula, and ransacks 
these Madrid garrets, generally with 
marked profit and success. 

On my first visit to Spain I did not 
see ancient and romantic Toledo, a 
strange, quaint city, which lingers like 
a protest against the present, on its 
bluffs beside the foaming Tagus. But I 
hastened to repair my error on the oc- 
casion of my second visit, ami accord- 
ingly set forth in the evening train on 
the two hours' journey between Madrid 
and the old fortress town. Spanish 
suburban railways are as capriciously 
managed as are the main lines. One is 
never certain that he will arrive at bis 
destination at the hour iudieated by the 
time-taliles ; in fact, he is never sure 
that he will arrive at all. I fell asleep 
on the way to Toledo, and. suddenly 
being awakened by a cold wind striking 
on my lace, found that we had come to 
a dead halt in a melancholy plain, and 
that one of the doors of the carriage 
was open. In a corner near me sat a 



mysterious person, entirely enveloped in 
his cloak, so that had I made the most 
persistent effort to see his face I could 
not have done so. The Spanish cloak has 
a vast amount of character in it. When 
hanging loosely from the shoulders it 
conveys the impression that its owner is 
free from guile ; but when wound about 
him. and half concealing his face, it im- 
parts to the most innocent the air of an 
assassin, or. at least, a fugitive from 
justice. When it quite swallows up the 
man in its voluminous folds it has 
something ghostly and enchanted about 
it. which quite controls the attention. I 
could not refrain from looking again and 
again at my mysterious fellow -passenger 
in the corner. I expected to sec a noble 
cavalier, with a tremendous frown, come 
forth; but at the end of the journey, 
when the man condescended to uncloak, 
he turned out to be nothing but a rather 
ordinary commercial traveller in a shabby 
tweed suit. 

Judging by the liuhis gleaming on an 
acclivity beyond the plain that we were 
near the end of our railway ride, I rescued 
my fellow-passenger from the mass of 
rugs, blankets, overcoats, valises, and 
guide-books, into which he had fallen in 
the unconsciousness of sleep, and we set 
our gaze forward, as many a. traveller did 
when exploring his way across those 
dreary plains at nightfall centuries ago, 
when roads were unsafe, and when men- 
at-arms went in twos and threes for 
mutual aid and protection. The superb 
moonlight lent a, poetical glamor to the 
most common and vulgar objects on this 
December evening in the south. The 
pools in some of the marshes which we 
passed were lik( flakes of molten silver. 
Shadows in the long grass rose up and 
disappeared with strange rapidity. A 
cottage or a hovel, with a well-sweep be- 
fore it, a fortified grange, or a grove be- 



114 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



side a rippling stream, looked eminently 
picturesque. In one place we caught a 
glimpse of a belated shepherd, hurrying 
his bleating flock to shelter; in another 
we saw a lew rude men seated on the 
ground around a blazing fire. Few 
houses which we passed had any lights 
at the windows; indeed, many of them 
had no windows worthy of the name. 
The interior of a Spanish dwelling of the 
ordinary elass has made small progress 
iu embellishment and comfort since the 
time when Cervantes wrote. We felt that 
we should have preferred to arrive in a 
diligence, or on horseback, rather than hi 
the extremely prosaic railway-ear. Pres- 
ently we rolled into a small station, and 
there was a cry of " Toledo." Then 
every one made a simultaneous rush for 
the omnibus. 

In. this gloomy, although roomy, convey- 
ance we obtained some ideas as to the 
discomforts which we should have suffered 
in a diligence, and repented of our late 
desire for it. We were packed in as 
tightly as nails in a board, and while we 
were suffocating, fat Spaniards dropped 
their valises upon our toes, and heaped 
their parcels upon our laps, while they 
proceeded with great, gravity to light 
their cigarettes. The roof of the crazy 
conveyance was heaped with luggage ; 
we could hear the driver indulge in a 
hundred untranslatable imprecations; 
then tlie mules jumped, and away we 
went into the seemingly open country. 
We crossed an ancient bridge, beneath 
which a river was roaring. 

Presently we began to climb a hill, 
and then the brilliant moonlight showed 
us an antique parapet guarding the 
brinks of precipitous cliffs, around 
which we wound our upward way, the 
tower surrounded with walls far above 
us. and nates proudly uplifting their 
venerable heads against time. All that 



we had dreamed of fascinating as be- 
longing to the approaches to Toledo 
was here more than fulfilled. Far 
below us, on the uneven plain, a few 
lights danced and flickered like will-of- 
the-wisps, as perhaps they were. Not 
a sound came from the city; I could 
have fancied it spellbound by a magi- 
cian. 

Now we crossed a tiny square, sur- 
rounded by tall, narrow, many-balconied 
buildings; and now our omnibus clat- 
tered through streets so narrow that 
the sleek sides of the mules seemed to 
graze the sides of the houses on either 
hand. But the Spanish Jehu landed us 
safely at last in front of a hostelry, 
which, humble enough of exterior, proved 
capacious and comfortable within. It 
was a veritable fonda ; with huge wooden 
shutters to the windows, and with bra- 
zeros to warm the apartments; with a 
profusion of dark passages and mys- 
terious retreats, and sunny house-tops, 
where the guests made their rendezvous 

in the morning; and with a dining-room, 
the walls of which were lined with pict- 
ures illustrative of the chivalrous career 
of tlie Knight of La Mancha, as well as 
with daggers and Toledo blades innu- 
merable. 

It was in this chamber, suggestive of 
duels and sudden deaths, and with ra- 
piers hanging almost literally over our 
heads, that we took our frugal midnight 
supper ; and while \ve ate fresh eggs and 
lean cutlets, fried in oil, ami drank 
thimblefuls of musty wine, we heard 
the voice of the sereno, not unmusically 
proclaiming tlie fact that it was twelve 
o'clock ami serene. Toledo seemed 
more than serene. It seemed more ami 
more to us as if the old town were iu 
an enchanted sleep. 

We dressed next morning, shivering 
in the cool air; for it was December, 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



115 



and December has its asperities in 
Spain as well as in more northward 
climates. We opened the windows, 
hoping to get warm. This sounds odd, 
but it is the literal truth: go out of the 
house into the open air if you wish to 
be warm in Spain. The sun is the life, 
the heat, the universal rejoicer. When 
he goes down to rest at night every- 
thing seems to take on a sinister and 
melancholy aspect for an hour or two 
as if in sullen dejection because of the 
departure of the monarch of day. 
When a Spaniard passes from the shade 
to the sunlight his face brightens in- 
voluntarily, even though he may have 
his nose enveloped in his gloomy cloak. 
So we opened the windows, and looked 
out over the plain which Toledo so 
proudly dominates; and here, before 
we went down to visit the town, we 
read the pretty legend about the origin 
of the Moorish victories over I he Goths. 
Toledo, as all the world knows, passed 
with the rest of Spain in the fifth century 
from the hands of the Romans into 
those of the Goths ; and in Toledo the 
Gothic kings held their Court in the 
sixth century. Two hundred years 
after that, Rodriguez, the last of the 
Gothic kings, was conquered on the 
hanks of the Guadalete by the Moors, 
swarming in from Africa. 

The legend tells of the mysterious 
grotto of Hercules, a subterranean laby- 
rinth, which is said to extend for more 
than three leagues outside the walls of 
Toledo. The entrance to this labyrinth, 
says the story, was closed by an iron 
gate, studded with massive bolts and 
nails, and was on the highest site in the 
town, at the place now occupied by a 
shabby Catholic church. The entrance, 
it is said, was walled up, by order of 
Cardinal Siliceo, in 1546. Here stood, 
in the ancient days, the palace founded 



by Tubal, and restored and enlarged by 
Hercules, who was a magician before the 
Greeks made a god of him, and who here 
built the enchanted tower containing 
many talismans and menacing inscrip- 
tions. Among these latter was one which 
read: "A ferocious and barbaric- nation 
will invade Spain whenever any one shall 
enter into this magic circle." Every 
Gothic king, trembling with fear lest this 
terrible and mysterious prophecy might 
lie realized, felt it his duty to add new bolts 
and locks to the mysterious door- way lead- 
ing into the grotto. But Rodriguez, not 
having the fear of magic before his eves, 
and hopingto find important treasure con- 
cealed in the labyrinth, one day banished 
his courtiers and his guard, and went 
along to the old iron door, on which for 
centuries had stood respected the inscrip- 
tion in Greek letters: "The king who 
shall open this door and discover the mar- 
vels beyond it will see much good and evil." 
Rodriguez, with sudden resolution, or- 
dered the bolts to be torn away, and went 
into the grotto. lie soon arrived in a 
vast chamber, with walls of hewn stone, 
in the middle of which stood a bronze 
statue of terrible aspect. It held in its 
hand weapons with which it struck upon 
the floor. But Rodriguez went straight 
up to the statue and asked permission to 
go farther on. The bronze warrior then 
ceased to strike upon the floor, and Rod- 
riguez, pushing on, soon found a coffer, 
on the cover of which was written : " He 
who opens me will see marvels." It was 
too late to hesitate now, so lie opened 
the box. but was annoyed to find in it 
nothing except a canvas which he un- 
rolled. Upon it were figured troops of 
strange men. their heads girt with tur- 
bans, and with lances and bucklers in their 
hands ; and underneath them ran the 
inscription : " He who shall have opened 
this box will have ruined Spain, and will 



111! EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 

be conquered by a nation like those Toledo;" and I warrant you thai each 

painted on this canvas." one is registered in sonic huge black 

King Rodriguez went out of the grotto book, and lias to give some small per- 

lilled with sadness and presentiment of centage of his receipts to a grasping 

trouble. That night a terrible tempest official. Men or women must be of very 

broke over Toledo, and the Tower of little account in Spain to escape govern- 

Hercules was destroyed, it was not mental cupidity. A good part of the 

long after these events that the Arabs frightful hubbub which we now heard 

began to pour into Spain, where they were was due to the fancy of some other trav- 

destined to remain for many centuries, ellers, who from the balcony next ours 

Toledo was at first governed in the name were tossing coppers to the beggars, and 

of i he Caliphs of the Orient by chiefs or watching the struggles of the wretches to 

by officers, who soon, however, declared gel them from each other. An evil-ej'ed 

their independence. The Moorish kings old man, in a soiled hat, a tattered 

of Toledo kept their sovereignty there blanket, a patriarchal beard, and a pair 

until 1085, when Alfonso VI., King of of red soldier trousers, had incurred the 

Castile, drove them out, after a siege animosity of all the other beggars by his 

which had lasted many vears. Then agility ; and the travellers were now a trifle 

Toledo became the capital of the kings appalled to see that their generosity 

of Castile, and remained so until the might possibly be the cause of a fray. 

middle of the sixteenth century, when In fact, a woman and two overgrown 

Philip II. took the Court to Madrid. boys, who had succeeded in picking up 

We were so engrossed in our hooks none of die pence, were threatening the 

that for some time we did nol notice the old man with instant dissolution unless 

hubbub in the street below ; but presently he agreed to divide. lie defended liis 

we looked down, where two or three booty as he could, ami already windows 

straggling ravs of sunshine had found were opened on the other side of the 

their way to the very flag-stones, and street, and ladies appeared, making ap- 

lighted up as picturesque a group of pealing gestures to the travellers not to 

vagabonds as ever sprouted on (he soil encourage this cupidity any farther. 

of Spain. ■• Are all the beggars in the Oaths, entreaties, words neither tit for 

province aware of our arrival?" said my ears polite norimpolite, flew from beggar 

companion. It really seemed as if they to beggar, with great rapidity, and aston- 

were, and were overjoyed to see us, for ished us. The red-legged sinner, disdain- 

they set up a yell of delight when our ing the danger in which lie stood, took 

attention rested upon them, and all. ex- off his hat, and solicited or begged our 

cept one or two lame ones, began dancing patronage anew, with a whining " Por 

about a.s if possessed with the devil. Dins, Senores ! " 

Poorsoulsl they were certainly possessed Whether or not it would have ended 

of little else, for there were scarcely in bl 1 I do not know, for it was luckily 

rags among the lot decently to cover the interrupted by the music of a tine mili- 

nakedness of one-half their number ; and tary baud and by sharp words of com- 

yet these rascals were all licensed to beg. mand from officers. Before the beggars 

Each one wore round his or her neck had had time to eel well ranged on the 

a string, from which depended a brass sunshiny side of the street, with their 

bad'je. bearing tile words. ■• Pobre <U backs against tin' walls, one of the tin- 



EUROPE /.V STORM AND r.U.M 



17 



est-looking regiments I had ever seen 
marched past. I doubt if any country 
could have produced a liner collection of 
shapely and intelligent young men than 
thai embodied in this regiment. There 
were traces of refinement and culture in 
every face, and we could not help think- 
ing that it was a sad waste to concentrate 
all this young talent upon such a branch 



Toledo we found two or three of these 
eadels, promenading or standing beneath 
balconies, conversing with ladies who 
were as invisible to them as to us. 
After seeing a few interviews of this 
fashion one can understand the strange 
surprises of which old Spanish comedies 
are full. One needs to be extremely 
careful when doing his Sunday courting. 



Wp 7 ' ) fpJ> iw^ 1 ' 





ALCAZAR AND WALLS OF TOLEDO. 

of the public service as the army, when 
good men are needed in so many other 
professions in Spain. These youths 
were the pupils of the great military 
school of Toledo, whence six hundred 
cadets an' sent forth at frequent periods. 
Their college was formerly the Hospital 
of the Holy Cross, and is one of the 
most interesting monuments of the town. 
Wherever we went during our stay in 



to make sure that 

,j3*f" itis his love, and nother 

mother, or her maiden 

aunt, whom he is talking 

up to. 

When the regiment 
had passed we closed our windows 
to discourage the beggars, and pres- 
ently sallied forth to view the town, 
beginning, as wise travellers always 
do, with a purposeless stroll hither 
and yon. In the course of this per- 
ambulation we discovered that Toledo 
is wonderfully clean for a Spanish town ; 
that order and decency seem every- 
where to prevail, and that one might 
pass a comfortable existence there if he 
were a good son of the Church, and 
passionately devoted to its history, an- 
tiquities, observances, and splendors; 
for Toledo is nought but an ancient 



118 



EUROPE IX STORM AMI CALM. 



fortress, filled with churches and convents 
and with the ruins of convents and 
churches. The railway and the govern- 
ment manufactory of arms, the only two 
tilings distinctly modern, are a long way 
outside the town limits. On the high 
hills, where old Toledo sits enthroned, 
erailled with walls which have defied the 
centuries, no spindles hum, no looms 
clash. You wonder in vain on what the 
population lives; you cannot find out. 
But it certainly does live, and live well ; 
for as the hour of the mid-day meal 
approaches you see hundreds of pretty 
olive-colored servant-girls, hurrying to 
their employers' homes, with market- 
baskets piled high with appetizing dis- 
play of vegetables, fruits, and meat, 
and with sundry fat bottles protruding 
from among the other treasures. There 
arc eighteen thousand or twenty thou- 
sand people in Toledo, and only a small 
percentage of the number subsists by 
begging. The others live. Ah! how- 
do theV live ? 

They evidently cared little for our 
opinion of them. They looked down 
from their windows at us with a cer- 
tain delicate scorn in their glances as if 
thinking, "Here are more barbarians 
come to view the proofs of our former 
grandeur." We finished our ramble at 
the Alcazar, a beautiful edifice, which 
stands upon the site of an old Gothic 
fortress. It was almost entirely I milt 
by Charles V. and by Philip II. It was 
burned in 1710 by the armies, German, 
English, Dutch, and Turk, during the 
war of the Succession. Charles III. had 
the magnificent staircase and many other 
parts of tin' structure restored in 1772; 
hut it was again burned in 1812, and 
now the Spaniards have courageously 
rebuilt it anew. The patio, or interior 
court, with its majestic columns and the 
staircase of honor, won our respect and 



reverence. From the Alcazar we went 
down to the large irregular square, sur- 
rounded by uneven arcades, where the 
populace collects in crowds when the 
sun is hot; and on this day it was hot 
indeed. People sat motionless on the 
greatstone benches, absorbing, as I have 
seen them do in Florida, the divine 
beauty of the air and the sun. Mule- 
teers from the country round about had 
cast themselves on the ground near their 
beasts, and were lazily smoking and 
dreaming. None of these men, of what- 
ever class, felt worried about the uses or 
abuses of life, the shadow of the grave, 
or any such nonsense ; and I felt sure 
that had they possessed intelligence 
enough to comprehend the purport of 

Mr. Mallock's I k, "Is Life worth 

Living?" they would have waved it 
gently aside as an intellectual atrocity, 
not worth their serious attention. Some- 
thing of the calm and dignity of the Moor- 
ish gateways and the massive cathedral 
walls seems to have crept into the de- 
meanor and the thought of these good 
people of Toledo. 

The shopkeepers do not seem much 
in earnest. There were no rich shops, 
filled with articles of luxury for sale, 
such as one would be sure to find in a 
town of twenty thousand inhabitants in 
America. People have finished their 
buying of furniture, pictures, and plate, 
and so great bazaars, filled with such 
things, are lacking. The chemist and 
the tailor had a melancholy look. They 
did not seem to be over-confident of a 
paying patronage ; but saddle and har- 
ness, horse-gear and mule-gear, stirrups 
and belts, daggers and pistols, guns and 
knives, were evidently in constant de- 
mand. Spain is still the country of the 
wandering horseman, armed to the teeth, 
and ready for adventures on hill or in 
valley. From this sun-blessed square. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Hit 



with its dozing crowd, we wont down to 
the smaller place in front of the mighty 
cathedral. Here, again, we found dozens 
of persons basking in the sun, a few 
children gambolling in a slow, lazy fash- 
ion, not even deigning to get out of 
our way, but allowing us to walk over 
them. 

This great church, which men labored 
at for two hundred and fifty years 
before its exterior was complete, and 
which is a pearl of Gothic architecture, 
threw a frowning shadow across our 
path. It seemed warning us to set aside 
the light and trifling spirit of the super- 
cilious traveller, in which we had been 
viewing and commenting upon things all 
that morning, and to approach its won- 
ders in reverential attitude. I sat down 
on a bench in front of the church and 
studied the rich portals until quite lost 
to everything else. The men who wrote 
in this stone book, as Victor Hugo would 
say, of hell, of pardon, and of the judg- 
ment, were blessed with elevated imagi- 
nation. It is not a little suggestive of 
the spirit of the Catholic church, that 
the page, or the portal, devoted to par- 
don is the most elaborately rich. This 
is exquisitely beautiful, worth journey- 
ing hundreds of miles by Spanish railway 
to see. The others are sometimes rude in 
detail, but powerful in ensemble. From 
the right of this monstrous facade, the 
stones in which seem to breathe forth 
life, springs the graceful church-tower, 
ninety yards high, and holding in its 
belfry a chime, one bell of which weighs 
forty thousand pounds. On the left is 
the renowned Mozarabic chapel, sur- 
mounted by a handsome octagonal cu- 
pola. This fronts the west, and the 
glories of the setting sun linger on it 
winter and summer evenings before they 
settle down to turn the ruddy waters of 
the Tagus for a moment into a flood of 



molten gold. There are no less than 
twenty-three chapels, which are so many 
little churches, all grouped around the 
greater cathedral, and they were spe- 
cially constructed, at widely divided 
epochs, as places of burial for celebrated 
warriors and churchmen. It was in G67, 
if we may believe the pious tradition, 
that the Virgin appeared to St. Ilde- 
fonso, Bishop of Toledo ; Imt this church 
had been founded a century before by 
a Gothic king converted to Catholicism. 
After the invasion of the Moors the 
cathedral, of course, became a mosque, 
and the Moors kept it as their place of 
worship even after the triumphal entry of 
Alfonso VI., until one night the Chris- 
tians arose, and, violating their prom- 
ise, took back the old cathedral, and 
consecrated it anew to their own worship. 
The foundations of the present cathedral 
were laid in 1227, and the edifice was fin- 
ished in 1493. When we had concluded 
our study of this facade we went round to 
the southern one. to the Door of the 
Lions, as it is called. We tried in vain 
to examine the beautiful small statues 
with which the portal was studded. 
The effort made our heads ache and 
brought black spots before our eyes. 
Northward arose the high and forbidding 
wnlls of the cloister and dozens of an- 
cient houses, with carveu fronts and 
windows protected with iron railings, 
also carved with hundreds of quaint de- 
vices. Behind the church, in a gloomy 
building, now a posada, once sat the 
Holy Inquisition, and from the vaults 
sometimes were heard, in the old days, 
the shrieks and groans of tortured i ris- 
oners. 

We went into the cathedral and found 
preaching in progress. After a long 
walk through the shades we came to 
the central structure, found in all 
Spanish churches, and which in this im- 



120 



EUROPE IX STORM 1X0 CALM. 



pressive cathedral is of must fabulous 
magnificence. Our eyes wandered from 
alabaster figures of saints and martyrs 
<lii\\n to the precious and richly carved 
walls of wood on which they rested, and 
then up to the frowning and monstrous 
columns of marble. One could but 
faintly describe this coro, for the amount 
of detail fatigues the sense of observa- 
tion. In a high pulpit, which seemed to 
spring as lightly as the blossom <>t' a 
honeysuckle from among the gigantic 
pillars, was a priest, lecturing a large 
procession of red-cloaked seminarists, 
who sat submissively below him. The 

OX-like beatitude of these youths' l'aees 

impressed me. 1 wondered if they hail 
really got the vocation, or if their pas- 
sions were still asleep. We thought 
that, considering the absolute humility of 
his audience, the priest was rather em- 
phatic and declamatory. In the live 
enormous naves of the church and in all 
the chapels ran an odor of incense, soft, 
sweet, and penetrating. It seemed to 
enter our very souls. My companion 
rebelled against it. He said lie felt as 
if there were a kind of moral taint, a 
species of spiritual subjection in it, and 
he longed to get into the open air. 

Hut even he was half persuaded 
to bow in adoration before a deli- 
cate and perfect marble group, repre- 
senting the Virgin and the Child, on 
the spot where the Virgin is supposed 
to have appeared to St. Ildefonso when 
lie brought down the holy chasuble. He 
stood and watched the faithful as they 
came one by one to touch the stone on 
which the divine mother was said to 



have set her feet, and his l'aee took" on a 
kind of awe as he saw the fervor and 
sincerity of these simple ones, who 
believe that the stone has certain power- 
ful virtues. All the beautiful French and 
Knglish cathedrals sink into insignifi- 
cance beside this of Toledo. Spaniards 
themselves think that the exterior archi- 
tecture of this church is inferior to that 
of tiie Cathedral of Burgos; but the 
superb mass of seemingly inexhaustible 
riches collected within tin: walls over- 
whelms the spectator. Here the past is 
crystallized. This is at once cemetery 
and temple of worship, volume of his- 
tory, ami museum of antiquities. Poetry 
and romance are in every corner. Knights 
and ladies, famous long ago, seem to 
sleep lightly on their sculptured tombs 
ami to be ready to arise at a signal. The 
red hat of a cardinal hangs above a mar- 
ble sarcophagus. How long has it been 
there? Longer than the United States 
has been a nation. 

And when the priest had finished his 
sermon, and the red-cloaked seminarists 
had gone forth, and the women who 
had been squatting on the stone pave- 
ment had arisen and departed, tremulous 
organ-music stole through the air, and 
came to us like a benediction. From 
the hidden choir rose the pure voices of 
boy choristers, singing praises over and 
over again, while the round voices of 
monks chimed the responses. We 
were about to leave the cathedral, but 
we could not. The magic of the music 
was all-powerful. We sat down in a 
corner and listened. 



El ROPE TN STORM AND CALM. 



J 21 



CHAPTER TWELVE. 

Dead Celebrities. — Don Alvaro tie I. una and his Famous Chapel in Toledo. — The Ancient Gates. — The 
Cloister of San Juan dc I.<>^ Reyes. — Cordova. — The Mezquita. — A Tit-lie of the Moors. — The 
Plain of Seville. — The Giralda. — The Cathedral. — The Gardens of the Alcazar. — The Duke oi 
Montpensicr. 



OPAIX lias more dead than living 
k_? celebrities within her limits, and 
among them nunc is more worthy of a 
note of respectful admiration than the 
old constable Don Alvaro De Lima, 
whose tomb is in this ancient Cathedral 
of Toledo, in the Santiago Chapel, one 
of the best specimens of the highest 
period of florid Gothic art. In this ex- 
quisite chapel reposes on a white marble 
tomb the body of the great constable, 
who had such a romantic history, and 
who finished his career upon the scaffold 
in 1453. The Spaniards say that the 
constable, who was very pious, had 
arranged, years before any thought of 
death had touched his spirit, that his 
mausoleum should have a statue which 
should kneel down during mass, and 
might rise up again at the end of the 
holy office. This strange order was 
carried into effect, and the statue was, 
so the legend runs, placed in the cathe- 
dral ; but the great Isabel ordered it to 
be removed because of the irreverent 
nature of the curiosity which it provoked 
among the faithful. 

Don Alvaro first makes his appearance 
in history as a page in the service of the 
young King John II., in 1408, while the 
king was still under the tutelage of the 
queen mother. The two young people 
were united in the closest bonds of 
friendship, hut the courtiers became 
jealous of the influence which the page 

had upon the king, anil separated the 



two children ; whereupon the young 
monarch fell into such a profound mel- 
ancholy that his beloved Don Alvaro 
was summoned hack to court at once. 
Thenceforward the path of the ambi- 
tious page was strewn with proofs of 
royal favor, and it, was not many years 
before he attained the highest office in 
the kingdom. — that of Constable <>f 
Castile. 

In 1431 he was victorious in the famous 
battle in which the Moors were pursued 
even to the walls of Granada. The vic- 
tory of Olmedo delivered King John II. 
from the ambitious intrigues of his 
cousin; and for this feat of arms, which 
was, perhaps, the proudest in Don 
Alvaro's career, he received every honor 
and courtesy which his royal master could 
bestow upon him. Hut thereafter his 
fortunes declined. John II. became 
jealous of him, and was, so the legend 
says, anxious to seize upon the immense 
riches which the constable had accumu- 
lated. 

So he ruthlessly exiled his favorite, 
and then Don Alvaro, for the first time 
in his life, committed a crime. He be- 
lieved that he had been supplantedin the 
favor of the king by a certain Alonzo 
Perez, who had been his own secretary. 
He managed to get this ungrateful servi- 
tor a fatal fall from the top of his house 
in Burgos, having had the balustrade 
sawn away, ami pitched after the victim, 
in order to make the public believe that 



122 



EUROPE IX STORM AXI) CALM. 



the murder was an accident. Don Alvaro 
was arrested and handed over to the 
executioner. His head was exposed in 
the market-place of Valladolid for nine 
days, and he who had been for thirty 
years the most powerful man in Spain 
was buried by public charity. But in 
process of time his evil deeds were for- 
gotten, and Iiis glorious oues seemed to 
entitle him to the bright place which he 

occupies to-day in the noblest cathedral 
in northern Spain. 

Another chapel of marked interest is 
thai of ••The new Kings," which was 
built under Charles V.. ami in which are 
many tombs of kings and queens of the 
thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. One 
begins to understand the reverent awe 
with which the citizens of Toledo speak 
of the great, cathedral when he has 
wandered among those royal tombs, and 
has learned that within those noble walls 
is a great epitome of Spanish history. 

From the church we went out for a 
walk around the old walls of Toledo, and 
visited in turn the beautiful (late of the 
Sun ( Puerta del Sol), in which the widely 
varying styles of the Moresque, the 
Gothic, and the Renaissance epochs are 
so strangely united ; and that other 
ancient gateway, the Al'CO del C'risto de 
la Luz, under which Alfonso VI. made 
his triumphal entry into the Toledo which 
he had won by his sword. We looked 
down upon the Tagus from the Bridge of 
Alcantara, which springs airily across a. 
gigantic chasm, its single arch, in light- 
ness and beauty, surpassing anything of 
the kind we had ever seen in northern 
lands. But of all the treasures of old 
Toledo none so won our fancy, not even 
the cathedral so appealed to our poetic 
sense, as did the Church of San Juan de 
los Reyes, which stands high above the 
Bridge of St. Martin, proudly overlook- 
ing the Tagus. No written description 



can more than faintly reproduce the 
beauties of this Gothic monument, once 
a vast church and cloister, which must 
have been a very haven of delight for 
the weary churchmen and warriors who 
reached it alter toiling across the bleak 
plains and through the dangerous moun- 
tain passes. It was built in 1470 , by 
Ferdinand and Isabella, as a votive 
offering after the famous victory of Toro, 
gained over their neighbor, the King of 
Portugal, who was always covetous, ami 
who supported the intriguing pretender 
to'the crown of Castile. The portal of 
the church, a century younger than the 
church itself, is supremely beautiful ; 
but the chief gem of the monastery 
was its cloister, which is the most mirac- 
ulous specimen of carving in stone that 
I have ever seen. Its beautiful arches 
are to-day half-ruined ; the garlands of 
leaves, of flowers, of birds, of chimeras, 
and of dragons, are degraded, and many 
of them have been taken down to be re- 
produced by the restorer's chisel. The 
finely carved colonnades, the little 
groups of pillars, within which lurk the 
statues of some shy saints, who look 
down from their refuge as if half afraid 
of the invading hand of modernism; the 
rich pedestals, and the standards and 
dais, worked through and through by the 
cunning artisans, until they are almost 
like lace ; the quaint and extravagant 
fancies of the mediaeval stone-cutters, — 
all this one despairs of rendering in 
weak prose. Outside the cloister, and 
above the door of the convent, through 
which, to-day. one enters the provincial 
museum, is a great cross in Gothic style, 
surmounted by a pelican. On the right, 
and on tin 1 left are statues of St. John 
and the Virgin Mary, in the face of 
which, so say the guides, one sees the 
veritable lineaments of the Catholic 
monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella. All 



EUROPE TN STORM AND CALM. 



123 



felt as if 



around the outside of the church hang 
uncomfortable masses of iron chains and 
fetters. These are the votive offerings 
of the Christian captives, who were given 
back to liberty at the surrender of 
Granada. 

When we left Toledo w 
we had been in an en- 
chanted city for one 
hundred years, and had 
suddenly been thrown 
back into the cold light 
of the natural world. 
We went away, our eyes 
still dazzled with the 
treasures which we had 
seen in the Sacristy of 
the Cathedral, on the 
morning before our de- 
parture. The superb 
custodia , which was made 
for the church in 1524, 
all of gilded silver, in the 
Cutliie style, was deco- 
rated with more than two 
hundred and sixty stat- 
uettes, and literally cov- 
ered with diamonds, with 
emeralds, and with other 
precious stones. Its cen- 
tral part, in massive 
gold, said the pious clerk 
who showed it to us, was 
made with the first ore 
brought back from Amer- 
ica by Christopher Co- 
lumbus. There, too, we 
saw the processional cross in gilded silver, 
made by a noted craftsman of Toledo in 
the sixteenth century ; and the standard 
which was planted by the valiant Car- 
dinal Mendoza and his men on the for- 
tress of the Alhambra in Granada in 
1492. The clerk showed us a Bible 
of the twelfth century, written upon 
golden leaves, each leaf beautifully en- 



circled with emeralds and with painted 
miniatures ; and we could not help cov- 
eting the reliquaries, of which this good 
man showed us at least fivescore. 

We went on from cathedral to cathe- 
dral until we were almost persuaded 
that all Spain was but tributary to the 




THE rUERTA DEL SOL. 

Catholic shrines, and that the revolu- 
tionary movements which we had seen 
in favor of modern progress ami liberty 
were but the " baseless fabric of a vi- 
sion." From Toledo we went down, past 
Aranjuez, to the Alcazar de San Juan, 
a wretched and ancient town, chiefly 
memorable in the diaries of travellers 
because of the discomforts which they 



124 EUROPE IN STORM AM> CALM. 

have been obliged to endure at its huge sculptor, all in excellent degree; the 

and comfortless railway station. This borne of the great captain of the fifteenth 

Alcazar was once the capital of the century, Fernandez de Cordova, — isnow 

commanderies of the Knights of St. a melancholy spectacle. Commerce seems 

John. to take wings to itself and fly away from 

We continued our journey into Anda- places which it had mice Messed with its 

lusia. across the barren and monoto- beneficial presence. Under the Romans, 

nous plains of La Mancha, through the under the Moors, even under the Castil- 

country which Cervantes has immortal ians. Cordova was one of the great in- 

ized in ''Don Quixote," through defiles dustrial cities of the world. Its silk 

and along the edges of precipices as factories swarmed with workmen and 

wonderful as those of northern Spain, workwomen, and the manufacture of its 

until we came to old ( 'ordova, half de- stamped and gilded leathers employed 

sert 'd, hut still as picturesque as it was thousands of artisans; hut one by one 

in the time of the Caliphs, when it pos- the sources of its commercial greatness 

sessed two hundred thousand houses, fell away, and there has been no internal 

and. if we may believe the enthusiastic policy, political or commercial, worthy 

Spaniards, eighty thousand palaces, seven the name, in Spain, since the beginning 

hundred mosques, and more than twelve of the century. So it is not wonderful 

thousand villages in its suburbs. The that Cordova shows no si^ns of the 

railway to Cordova passes near the site awakening so perceptible in Barcelona 

of the famous battle of Las Xavas. and the other cities of the north. There 

fought on tin' 12th of .Inly. 1212, when are to-day but a few wretched nmnu- 

the Moors were defeated with a loss of factories of ribbons and of oilt in the 

many thousands of men, and were town ; hut the jewellers are numerous, 

forced to give into the hands of the and their windows are tilled with gold 

Christians the fertile domain of Andalu- and silver work, which is massive and 

sia. where they had been so happy. honestly made, although without much 

It is stupefying to the traveller from delicacy or elegance. 

the Occident to wander through Cor- Cordova had been but little touched 

dova. From whole quarters of the city by the revolutions which succeeded each 

the inhabitants have gone away: long other with such rapidity in the peninsula 

streets are lilhd with houses entirely un- after 1868; but since the revival of the 

occupied, ami here one may learn to un- monarchy of Alfonso XII. there has 

del-stand the gradual ruin which overtook mown up. all through the fertile domain 

the cities of the Last. of Andalusia, a socialistic movement, 

'l'h,' aneient town of the Senecas ami which perhaps had its origin in the suh- 

of Lucan ; the illustrious cradle of the terranean workings of the Internationale 

poets of Cordova, of whom Cicero spoke in 18G9, and the years directly preceding 

with so much enthusiasm; the city in it. The taxation of the present mon- 

which Moorish physicians, surgeons, ami arehy has been almost ruinous for many 

philosophers, jurisconsults, and minis- of the industries of Andalusia, and it is 

ters of state, wrote works which have remarkable with what persistence one 

been translated into half the languages Spanish monarchy follows another Span- 

of Europe; the birthplace of Cespedes. ish monarchy in neglecting to develop 

who was poet, painter, architect, ami the resources of the country. Shortly 



EUROPE IJS STORM AND CALM. 



L25 



after returning from a journey in Spain 
I took up the descriptive itinerary of 
that country, written nearly fifty years 
ago by (unite de Laborde, and in it the 
author, who was a painstaking and care- 
ful observer, laments that the -whole 
country between Seville and Jerez de la 
Frontera, which is naturally one of the 
most fertile hits of land in the world, is 
left to run to waste, because the oppres- 
sive taxation, and the indisposition of 
the local authorities to aid in making 
improvements in the provinces, had dis- 
couraged the farmers. What the Comte 
de Laborde said fifty years ago is per- 
fectly true to-day. If progress is made 
in Spain, always excepting the recent 
vigorous movements in Catalonia and 
elsewhere in the north, it may he set 
down as certain that it is the work of 
the English or some other enterprising 
strangers. Andalusia, wrote our observ- 
ing friend fifty years ago, so abounds 
in wheat that it has been called the 
granary of Spain ; but to-day the poorer 
classes find it difficull to get enough to 
eat. Probably one of the reasons for 
tiiis extreme poverty is their unwilling- 
ness to work ; but there is little induce- 
ment to labor in a country where the 
government takes the larger part of 
one's earnings so soon as one has earned 
them. 

The society of the Mano Negra, or 
the Black Hand, was formed a, few 
years ago in Andalusia, its direct objects 
being the plunder of the rich and the 
assassination of the oppressors ; and the 
creation of this society was provoked 
exactly like that of the Nihilists in 
Uussia, by intolerable abuses aud 
tyranny, from which there seemed no 
appeal except by conspiracy and vio- 
lence. 

The jewel of Cordova is its ancient 
mosque, still called the Mezquita. To- 



day the Holy Church has baptized it as 
a cathedral; but to the eyes of all the 
poetically inclined it will still remain the 
uios(|iie which the splendid Caliph Ab- 
derahman built in the year 170 of the 
Hegira, as the Arab chroniclers tell us, 
and in which have been seen so many 
splendid parades of Moorish military and 
civic grandeur. This beautiful structure 
occupies the site of the first cathedral 
that the Goths had built on the place 
where they had found traces of the 
temple of Janus, which the Romans had 
erected there. The Mezquita is even 
built out of the ruins of the two preced- 
ing structures, and nearly all the columns 
which are so striking a feature of the 
mosque are very ancient. The edifice 
is live hundred and thirty-four feet lone-, 
and nearly four hundred feet wide 
within. The walls are built out of 
Luge stones, hewn coarsely, and uneven 
in size. The northern side is covered 
with ornaments in stucco, which are 
carved with the greatest delicacy ; and 
at the principal entrance arc six jasper 
columns of exquisite beauty. A massive 
square tower rises at one side of this 
strange building. Its windows are 
ornamented with white and red marble 
columns ; and at the top are little arches, 
in the form of festoons, sustained b\ a 
great number of diminutive columns. 

The court-yard, nearly two hundred 
feet long, with a marble fountain in its 
centre, is another curious feature in 
the mosque. This is tin- place where 
the faithful made their daily ablutions 
after they had left their shoes at the 
foot of the tower near the entrance 
This superb court-yard is surrounded on 
three sides by a tine portico, supported 
by seventy-two columns. In the middle 
are planted orange and lemon trees, 
cypress, palms, and many other tropical 
and semi-tropical shrubs. Here nature 



120 



EUR Or E IN STORM ANT) CALM. 



and art are married in the happiest 
manner, with that felicity and harmony 
which the .Moors so well understood. 
When the troops who accompanied 
Joseph Bonaparte into Andalusia en- 
tered this dazzling court-yard for the 
first time they could not suppress shouts 
of admiration. The chapter of the 
cathedral, in its most brilliant costumes, 
came forward to meet the new monarch, 
who was destined to have such a short 
stay ; the people pressed in crowds round 
the cortige ; and the great enclosure, 
with its antique, oriental stones, with its 
African palm-trees spreading above the 
verdure of the low orange shrubs, which 
mingled the perfume of their flowers 
with the incense escaping from the 
censers ; the branches, which were dee- 
orated with thousands of ribbons and 
flags of all colors ; the clash of the drums, 
and the noise of the artillery outside ; 
the superb vault of the sky, —in a word, 
the unusual beauty of animate and inan- 
imate things formed such an ensemble 
that the troops, who had French eves 
for the picturesque, were ravished, ami 
swore that they would never depart from 
such a beautiful place. This mosque 
has seventeen doors, covered with bronze 
plates. Within the vast structure are 
nineteen naves, each three hundred and 
fifty feet long, and more than fourteen 
feet wide, running from the south to the 
north; and across these, from east to 
west, run nineteen smaller naves. All 
these are formed by long lines of columns, 
and the effect is as fantastic as beautiful. 
Many of the columns are of jasper, 
which closely resembles turquoise ; others 
are of the finest red, white, and reddish- 
yellow marble. Most of them ha ve Co- 
rinthian capitals, and few are more than 
eleven feet high. There are in this 
wonderful mosque no less than one then- 
Band and eighteen of these columns. 



Here are no vaults, but the ceilings are 
made of simple wood, without ornamen- 
tation, but beautifully joined together. 
The mosque was left in its original form 
until the beginning of the tenth century, 
at which time the zealous chapter ob- 
tained from the king, although the citi- 
zens of Cordova protested against the 
mutilation of the beautiful monument, 
permission to build in the centre of the 
structure a huge chapel, which is like a 
church within a church. But, in spite of 
its rich accumulations of marbles, of 
paintings, of tapestries, and of frescoes, 
it looks cold and out of place in this 
Moorish mosque, which seems to attract 
to it the heat and the translucent color 
of Africa. 

After a day's wandering in and about 
this mosque we felt that Cordova had no 
further charm for us. We did not stay 
to visit the great Episcopal Palace, with 
its marble staircase, the balustrades of 
which are lined with ornaments in bad 
taste, nor to inspect the seemingly innu- 
merable portraits of the bishops of Cor- 
dova, nor the remains of the palace of 
the Moorish kings, which I fancied ex- 
isted only in the imagination of the Span- 
ish chroniclers ; nor to the Royal Palace, 
which, surrounded by its gloomy walls. 

looks like a citadel occupied by a foreign 
invader, who is compelled to protect him- 
self from the inhabitants. Indeed, this 
might be construed, perhaps, as the 
present position of the monarchy in 
Spain. At Cordova one of the old 
palaces is used as a stable for the splen- 
did Andalusian horses which are raised 
in the neighborhood; and in this stable, 
in 1792, stood six hundred almost price- 
less horses, the very perfection of their 
race. The Spanish monarehs of this 
century have not paid so much attention 
io horses as to bulls. Here and there in 
Cordova one sees the spacious enclosures 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



127 



into which the wild bulls are driven when 

they are brought up from the plains to be 
partially subjugated before they are given 
over to the pleasures of the 
populace in the ring. f ; 

From Cordova to Seville is ',. 

a pleasant excursion through 
one of the most fertile plains 
in Spain, among the vims 
and olive trees, through groves 
of cactus and of palm. The 
railway is even hedged in by 
rows of gigantic cacti, which 
grow in the most fantastic 
form. Seville stands in the 
midst of this plain, which is 
traversed by the Guadalqui- 
vir. At first sight it is not 
imposing. The streets are nar- 
row, tortuous, badly paved. 
The eleven thousand or 
twelve thousand houses in 
the town are very solidly 
built, and any one of any 
importance has a great court- 
yard surrounded by galleries, 
supported by columns, and 
has fountains in the centre. 
The entrance to each of these 
patios, as the courts are 
called, is closed by a door of 
open iron-work, in which the 
artisans of Seville are very 
adroit. In summer, when 
the intense heat falls upon 
this plain, the inhabitants 
of Seville live entirely in these open 
courts, over which they spread gayly 
colored awnings. They desert their 
sleeping-rooms and lie on cool couches in 
the corridors, lulled to rest by the music 
of the fountains. Hut, as nothing is per- 
fect in this life, they have a compensat- 
ing torment in the omnipresent mosquito. 

The foundation of Seville is variously 
attributed to Hercules, to Bacchus, to 



the Hebrews, to the Chaldeans, and to 
the Phoenicians. What is certain about 
the old town's history is, that its inhab- 




A PATIO IX SEVILLE. 

Hants have always manifested a Parisian 
discontent with their sovereigns and 
forms of government ; that they have 

sustained three sieges, two of which are 
among the most remarkable in history; 
that they revolted against the King of 
Cordova in the eleventh century, and 
set up a King of Seville for themselves ; 
were brought back under the empire of 
the sovereigns of Cordova ; raised anew 



128 EUROPE IN STORM AXD CADI. 

the standard of rebellion in 1111. and point of departure and arrival for the 

again chose a king whose descendants huge fleets which traded to the land of 

laid down the law to Cordova. When the setting sun; when troops of hardy 

Ferdinand II.. Kin",' of Castile and adventurers thronged the quays of the 

Leon, took possession of Cordova ami Guadalquivir, anxious to embark for 

Jaen. in 1236, Seville threw off all an- adventure in America. "Seville," says 

thoritv and declared herself a Republic; a melancholy Spanish writer of thepres- 

that her people should he governed by enl day, " is now a body without a soul; 

the laws which they made for themselves, and yet" — he adds with quaint sad- 

I'.ut Ferdinand II. circled Seville with ness — ••the vessels could go up the 

his forces, and set siege to it in 1217, Guadalquivir to-day as readily as they 

and after twelve months of grim resist- did four hundred years ago." Here 

anee the town succumbed, and was came the gold and silver from the colo- 

thenceforward to lie a jewel in the crown nies ; here were furled the sails of the 

of Castile. galleons after they had been chased 

Tin' two chief beauties of Seville are along the shores by piratical or inimi- 

the Alcazar, the ancient palace of tin' cal fleets, which laid in wait for them 

Moorish kings, which, since the fall of as they came home from the rich West; 

the Moors, has been restored and much here were thousands of workers in 

enlarged, especially in the reign of the silks, in gold and silver tissues, in flax 

sombre and terrible refer the Cruel; and cotton stuffs; but now they are all 

and the Metropolitan church, or cathe- gone. In 160] the seventeen guilds 

dral, a noble twin to that of Toledo, of the city of Seville made a report 

and one of the most splendid edifices in concerning the prosperity of the town. 

Europe. The cathedral, the old tower There were then a great many silk 

of the Giralda, built by El <!el>ir, the factories, employing thirteen thousand 

inventor of Algebra, which is named men and women. Two centuries later 

after him ; the archiepiscopal palace, there were hardly two thousand silk 

and the old library in which lie the weavers in the town, 

thousands of manuscript records con- During two visits in Seville I found 

cerning the discovery of the New World, that the Cathedral commanded and ab- 

— are all grouped together in a beauti- sorbed my attention. As in Venice the 

fill square bordered with orange-trees, stranger naturally makes his way twice 

We were admitted to the library, where or thrice daily to the Place of St. Mark, 

we saw infinite portraits of archbishops so in Seville, whether or not one be 

of Seville, but not many of the discov- piously inclined, he pushes aside the 

erers of America ; ami where we found leathern curtains on the door-ways at 

no books of more recent date than the the entrance of the Cathedral several 

close of the las;, century. But why times each day ; and at each visit to the 

should the library of the church have interior of the great church he finds 

books of recent issue? Seville seems something new on which to feast his eyes, 

to have fallen asleep in its sunny plain Now it is a dance of pages, in mediaeval 

beside the broad, lazy river, and to cost lime, before the great central altar; 

have forgotten the glorious days when now it is a procession, — and where are 

it was the centre of the commerce and the religious processions so picturesque 

the wealth of Spain; when it was the and so rich in color as in Spain? — now 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



1 -20 



a sermon by some buxom friar to a con- sixteen thousand dollars of our money, 
gregation of one or two thousand ladies, This is carried in the procession on the 
who are seated on the flag-stones, humbly day of the festival of the Holy Sacrament. 
taking in the word of the 
gospel ; now, it is the fu- 
neral of some nobleman, 
with majestic singing by 
seores of monks in the 
carven stalls of the coro : 
in short, it is a perpetual 
succession of spectacles, 
each one of which has its 
peculiar charm. 

In the Sacristy are the 
famous (allies given by 
Alfonso the < tood to this 
historic church. They are 
of gilded silver without, 
and of gold within, and 
covered with chiseUings 
encrusted with precious 
stones. There, also, is 
the great silver key, on 
the wards of which is the 
inscription, " God will 
open and the King will 
enter." Underneath the 
ringof this key are graven 
ships, lions, and castles. 
The custodians say that 
this was the key given by 
the Moors to King Fer- 
dinand when they gave 
up the city of Seville. 
There, too, is a majestic 
chandelier of bronze, 
which serves for the office 
of the Holy Week when 
the streets of Seville are 
transformed into a vast 
religious fair, and when the hotels are 
thronged with visitors from the four quar- 
ters of the world. This chandelier is tilled 
with columns, caryatids, statues, and other 
ornaments in relief. In this Sacristy is the 




BEGGARS AT THE CATHEDRAL I B 



Tabernacle, worth fifteen thousand or 



It is of incomparable richness, and is 
covered with most curious figures of 
angels and of saints. 

From the top of the Giralda Tower 
we looked down upon the great square 
in which the Inquisition used to roast its 



130 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

unhappy victims, and tried to imagine the gallant princes who took part in the 

the scene : but it seemed to us incredible first campaigns in Algeria. Bravery has 

that so sunny, so peaceful, and so beau- always been one of his chief qualities, 

til'ul a place should have been chosen and it stood out in strong relief ill hie 

for the exercise of the rage of the most fatal duel with his cousin, the Infante 

bigoted monks the world has ever known. Don Enrique de Bourbon. The Duke 

We preferred to dismiss from our married, in 184G, the sister of Queen 

thoughts the remembrance of these hoc- Isabel of Spain, a marriage which at the 

rors, recollecting that the Inquisition has time was considered a very adroit piece 

long ago had its teeth drawn, and to call of management on the part of Louis 

up, as we looked over beautiful Seville, Philippe, and caused great irritation, ami 

the poetic figures <>f the great painters almost open rupture, between France and 

and sculptors who have made the town England. 

illustrious. The school of Seville counts The Duke has Keen much disturbed by 

among its glories, Zurbaran, Fernandez, revolutions. After the events of Feb- 

Velasquez, ami Herrera. Murillo was. ruary, 1848, in Paris, he Med to England 

in point of fact, not a native of Seville, with his family; thence to Holland, and 

although the Se\ illans claimed him as afterwards to Seville, where he has 

01 f their own. But hehaslefl in the finally settled in the charming palace 

town n hundred evidences of his great- just mentioned. He was compelled to 

ness. and none more striking than the leave Spain after the fright of Queen 

paintings in the chapel of the hospital Isabel in 1868; gave up his rank in the 

for indigent old men. In this chapel the army, his title of Infante, and his deco- 

paintings are kept reverently screened by rations which he had received from the 

curtains, which the attendant nuns will Queen ; but, under the provisional gov- 

draw away for the stranger who bestows eminent, he got permission to return to 

charity upon the hospital. Seville, and then set up his candidature 

The gardens of the Alcazar seemed for the empty throne. About that time, 

more like the sudden embodiment of a however, his chances were ruined by the 

poet's dream than like the result of the above-mentioned duel, which must cause 

carefully planned luxury of Moorish ami him many a twinge of conscience, al- 

Spanish sovereigns. They are still though his attitude, as men of the world 

maintained in their pristine beauty, and consider such things, was strictly correct, 

are filled with fountains, groves of orange There had long been a quarreJ between 

and lemon trees, and with a profusionof the Duke and his cousin, which was 

delicate tropical plants and flowers. brought to a sanguinary conclusion by 

Not far from these gardens of the Don Enrique's letter, talking about the 

Alcazar is a palace in which resides, for " suborned villains " who were ready to 

some portion of each year, the Duke de proclaim Montpensier King of Spain. 

Montpensier, otherwise known as An- The Duke immediately challenged his 

toine Marie Philippe. Louis d'Orleans. cousin, and met him on the 12th of 

The Duke de Montpensier is a well-known March. Ls7(». on the artillery ground 

figure in half-a-dozen European capitals, about three miles from Madrid. Three 

as he is almost as inveterate a traveller shots were exchanged, the Duke, the third 

as Daniel Pratt. He is the fifth son of time, taking deadly aim and shooting his 

King Louis Philippe, and was among cousin through the head. For this little 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



131 



incident in his career he was tried by 
court-martial, sentenced to one month's 
banishment from the capital, and to pay 

an indemnity to the family of bis slain 
cousin. His political ambitions are per- 
haps over, for he is now an old man, 
although still erect and strong, and fond 
of constant bustle and excitement. In 
Paris he makes his head-quarters at the 
H6tel de Londres, which has long been 



a favorite resort for the Orleans family, 
and from his balcony in the hotel he 
looked down upon the funeral of Gambetta 
not long ago. It is sometimes the fash- 
ion to say that the Duke helps his 
younger cousins to conspire, but nothing 
has transpired to prove this. lie is. and 
will probably remain, as the Comte de 
Chambord was at the time of his death, 
a monarchical candidate in partibus. 



132 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



CHAPTER THIRTEEN. 

The French Empire in 1S69. —Subterranean Throes.— Manifestations. — The As-a—i nation of Victor Noir. 
- Pierre 1! inapartc. — The /.'•/, of Rochefort.— Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand Workmen sing- 
ing the Marseillaise. — The imperial Press Law. 



WHEN I returned from Spain, in the 
autumn of 1869, the subterranean 
throes winch had been announced by the 
volcanic shimmer were clearly perceptible. 
The Empire had met with serious reverses 
since the close of its splendid festival of 
1867, and then- was a strange irony in 
the fate which fashioned the instruments 
of its destruction out of the power which 
it had persecuted most unrelentingly 
since the rimji cVEtat. 

Nothing could be inure interesting to 
a journalist than to natch the battle of 
French journalism with the French Em- 
pire in this autumn of i860. The two 
powers were fairly pitted against each 
other, neither desiring to give nor to take 
quarter. Rochefort had arisen into a 
power with which the Empire was com- 
pelled to count. He had grouped around 
him many unruly and some disreputable 
personages, and was recognized as a 
possible leader in any riot or revolution 
which mightoccur. Rochefort had been, 
since the annihilation of his Lanterne in 
Paris, publishing this little paper at 
Brussels, and having it smuggled into 
France. The 1 Empire, which had at one 
time lined him 10,000 francs, sen- 
tenced him to a year's imprisonment, 
and deprived him for a year of his civil 
rights, in vain heaped upon him new 
sentences. From his secure retreat in 
Belgium he sent forth most virulent 
attacks upon the Empire and all the Im- 
perial personages; and to crown his 
triumph he was elected by the Irrecon- 



cilable Democrats to the Corps Ligi&latij 
from one of the wards of Paris. He 
came boldly into France, ami was. of 
course, arrested on crossing the Belgian 
frontier; but the Emperor, who did not 
dare to treat Rochefort otherwise than 
with consideration, gave the journalist a 
sale conduct, allowing him to remain ill 
the country until after the election. 

Rochefort received nearly 18,000 votes 
against 13,445 given to his opponent, 
and naturally was safe from arrest so 
soon as he was elected deputy. His 

popularity in those days was so great 
that he could not appear in an open car- 
riage, or in the court-yard ofa hotel, with- 
out attracting an immense crowd. People 
liked to protest against the methods of 
the Empire by silently manifesting their 
appreciation of its opponents. They did 
not dare to cheer, or to print what they 
thought about the courageous journalists 
who were opening the way to the Repub- 
lic, but they could not be hindered from 
"manifesting " now and again upon the 
streets. 

In those days manifestations were 
much talked of. and the Empire had a 
certain dread of their.. On the day of 
mv return from Spain, in October of 
1869, a great gathering was announced 
to take place on the Place de la Con- 
corde. But the cavalry and infantry 
were set in motion, and few people liked 
to run the risk of arrest, so that the main 
testation was all made by one vapor- 
ing, crazy, old man. who had long been 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 






a familiar sight in Paris, and who ha- 
rangued the Obelisk of Luxor concerning 
things in general, l>ut was not so crazy 
that he undertook to attack the Empire. 
The creation of the Marseillaise 1 > v 
Rochefort, in December of 1869, was 
scoffed at by the supporters of the 
Empire, but it proved to be a power- 
ful agent in hastening the downfall of 



gnat Communal insurrection, to Prince 
Pierre Bonaparte, to ask satisfaction for 
ai insult which the Prince, who was any- 
thing but princely in his manner of speech, 
had addressed to the editors of a radical 
paper, called the Revenge. Prince 
Pierre, as the Empire's ill-hick would 
have it, was in a frightful temper on the 
morning of Victor Xoir's visit ; and when 




THE MUUDER OF VICTOR NOIR. 



the Imperial authority. The very name 
of this saucy and vindictive journal was 
a menace to Napoleon, who had ren- 
dered it a penal offence to sing the 
Marseillaise in any part of the domain 
of France. Attached to this paper was 
a young Parisian journalist, a veritable 
enfantdu peuple, ignorant, but energetic, 
and wielding a caustic pen. On the 
10th of January, 1870, this young man, 
whose uom de plume was Victor Noir, 
was sent by Paschal Grousset, who was 
afterwards destined to play a rdle in the 



the young journalist, accompanied by 
one of his colleagues, entered the apart- 
ment of the Prince at Auteuil and stated 
his mission, there was a lively quarrel. 
The Prince had challenged Rochefort on 
the previous evening, and fancied that 
Noir and his companion had conic 
from the celebrated journalist with his 
answer. When he discovered his mis- 
take he took the letter which the young 
journalist handed him, read it carefully 
through, tossed if upon a chair, and, 
advancing, said : — 



134 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



•• I challenged M. Rochefort because 
he is the color-bearer of the mob: as 
to M. Grousset, I have no answer for 
him. Arc you in sympathy with these 
■wretches? " 

Victor Noir immediately answered 
that he was entirely in sympathy with 
the persons whom he represented ; 
whereupon, the Prince gave him a blow 
in his face, ami then, stepping hack, 
drew a revolver and tired at Noir, who 
was at thai moment very near him. 

The young man pressed his hand to 
his breast, and managed to walk out of 
the house, but fell upon the sidewalk, 
ami died almost instantly. A more 
cowardly assassination was never com- 
mitted, nor one less excusable from 
every point of the French code relative 
to the maintenance of honor. Prince 
Pierre's version, carefully prepared 
afterwards, was that he was attacked 
by Victor Noir, and that he saw the 
other journalist about to draw a pistol; 
whereupon he determined to deft lid 
himself. 

The excitement caused by the news 
that a member of the Imperial family — 
for Prince Pierre, although he was the 
hrt<> noir of his enthroned cousin, and 
as little imperial as might well he imag- 
ined, still bore the name of Bonaparte — 
had assassinated a child of the people, 
is quite impossible to describe. The 
Marseillaise appeared next morning 
framed in black, and thousands on thou- 
sands of copies were sold on the streets, 
before the police interfered to prevent 
a further circulation of an "Appeal to 
the People," which Kochefort. casting 
all prudence to the winds, had signed 
and printed. The head-lines, •• Assas- 
sination of a Citizen by Prince Pierre 
Bonaparte." " Attempted Assassination 
of another Citizen by Prince Pierre 
Bonaparte." provoked an uprising in the 



popular quarters, where the workmen 
had long desired a pretext to descend 
into the aristocratic section of the city, 
and manifest their disapproval of the 
Empire and its followers; and there 
were some exciting moments at the Tuil- 
eries during these bleak January days 
which followed the Victor Noir " inci- 
dent." as the Imperial journals called it. 
The murder occurred cm the 10th, and 
the funeral was fixed for the 12th, of 
January. On the morning of the funeral 
M. Kochefort came down to his office, to 
find that his journal had been seized, 
and that a demand for his prosecution 
had been introduced into the Corps 
L4gislatif; and the funeral, which took 
place in the early afternoon, certainly 
brought together as many as two hun- 
dred and fifty thousand men of the 
working-classes, who left their workshops 
and went in orderly and grim procession 
down the long line of the boulevard and 

up the Champs Klysees. and out to the 
little cemetery where the unlucky youth- 
ful journalist was to he laid to rest. The 
Imperial authorities had consigned to 
their barracks all the troops in Paris, 
with instructions to he ready to march 
at a moment's notice, and the workmen 
were allowed to go to the funeral without 
any molestation whatever. Hundreds of 
police spies, in plain clothes, were dis- 
persed throughout the throng, and car- 
ried their reports from time to time to 
the Prefect of Police, who was to inter- 
fere if, on the return from the funeral, 
there was any attempt at a riot. 

It would he difficult to define the 
demeanor of the vast crowd assembled 
at this gathering. I have seen but 
one other demonstration like it in 
France, and that was, oddly enough, 
also at a funeral, — that of M. Thiers, 
which took place during the great 
counter-revolution of 1877, when people, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CAL V. 



135 



laboring under strong excitement, felt 
constrained in their own interests and 
in those of their country to refrain 
from any open expression of discontent 
with the government. At this funeral 
of Victor Noir the sea of upturned 
human faces, all filled with a profound 
discontent, a lurking ferocity which was 
not vet ready to wake into vigorous 



of Police clapped his hands ami said, 
" Here arc a hundred thousand bayonets 
fallen from heaven to help us ! " 

The clever prefect understood the 
value of rain in damping the enthusiasm 
of mobs as well as did old Petion, Mayor 
of Paris, who looked out of his window 
and said, "There will lie no revolution 
to-day, for it rains." 




.- . \ 






H 









t 




ROCIIEFORT ASD THE WORKING-MEN RIDDEN DOWN. 



action, but which seemed to prophesy 
terrible things for the future, was an im- 
pressive spectacle, which no one who 
witnessed it can ever forget. The Im- 
perial police knew full well upon that 
day that a word, a. song, a shout, 
might be sufficient to overturn the 
Empire, and a friend who was pres- 
ent in M. Pietri's cabinet, when the im- 
mense procession of workmen began to 
return from the cemetery, in the midst 
of a shower of rain, told me that the C hief 



But revolution was near at hand, and 
never nearer than when, as if moved by 
some sudden inspiration, some influence 
entirely independent of their volition, 
these thousands upon thousands of work- 
men began to sing the Marseillaise with 
a vigor and a rude energy which were 
quite startling. This splendid soul;. 
which had been SO long tabooed, put 
a curious lire into the blood of many 
of the spectators who did not mingle in 
the manifestation. The end of the re- 



L3G EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

pressivc period had come. What no had it not been for the incessant patrol- 
man dared to do, what he could not have ling of the streets by cavalry, a revoln- 
done without being lined and imprisoned tion would certainly have occurred that 
and qualified as a criminal, two hundred night. Prince Pierre was arrested bv 
and fifty thousand men could do, and none order of the Emperor, and taken to the 
could say them nay. The journal and the Conct'ergerie, where he was allowed com- 
journalist had brought about this sudden fortable quarters in the director's room. 
uprising. It taught the people that they I visited him there, and shall never fur- 
hail but t<> move, and the obstacles in get the emphasis with which he declared 
their road would be brushed aside. This that, if he might put himself at the head 
was a proud day for Rochefort. He of a regiment of gendarmes, he would 
was the hero of the demonstration at agree to sweep away all the would-be 
tin' cemetery, and from the windows in rioters within two hours. But his con- 
the little house in which the bereaved fidence was greater than that of his Im- 
Xoir family lived he had made a ring- perial cousin, who began to feel that the 
ing speech, in which, however, he conn- end was indeed near at hand, 
selleil moderation and prudence; for, This was the winter of 1870, and this 
he said, " The government would like was the second great blow which the 
nothing better than to put down forever fortunes of the Empire had received. In 
Uiv Republic, if we should try to declare 1 1868 Leon Gambetta had entered upon 
it to-day. As to our vengeance, it will the scene of French politics with that 
come. From the government we expect theatrical pose and magnificent <il>iiut!oi> 
nothing, we wish nothing of it, and which characterized all his movements 
nothing further to do with it. Its fall until the sudden ami tragic close of his 
is fated, ami near at hand. For this life ; and it was in connection with a 
reason I bee von to be patient and battle of the newspapers against the 
calm." Empire that he won immediate and last- 
But this advice, like that of the stu- ing renown. Gambetta had been but 
dent who begged hi- comrades not to little heard of outside the cafis and the 
nail the proctor's ears to the pump, was dining-rooms of the Latin Quarter, where 
taken in an inverse sense; and I have no he was wont to air his contemptuous, and 
doubt that the thousands who went down sometimes majestic, eloquence, until the 
the Champs Elvsees singing the Mar- Imperial ministry prosecuted the journals 
seillaise thought that the Republic would which had opened a subscription in honor 
be declared that day. Rochefort was of the memory of Baudin, the represent- 
oliliged to head this strange procession, ative of the people, who was killed upon 
but presently found himself confronted a barricade in the Faubourg St. Martin, 
with squadrons of cavalry, backed up by at the time of the nm/i d'Etat. This sub- 
platoons of police : and in the neighbor- scription, and the orderly and inoffensive 
ho,., I of the Palais de l'lndustrie he manifestations which took place at the 
saw the glittering bayonets of regiments tomb of Baudin in the Montmartre ceme- 
of infantry. The Riot Act was read, tery, were scarcely worth the rigors in 
and the workmen, after great confusion which the Imperial courts had indulged, 
and many threats, were dispersed. But and the papers resolved to give battle, 
all the quarters inhabited by the humbler The RSveil, which was one of the first 
classes were in a perturbed state ; and, journals prosecuted, gave its case into the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



137 




GAMBETTA IN THE BAUDIN PROSECUTION. 



hands of Gambetta. He wanted uo finer rangued the head of the Second Empire 

opportunity to make the protest which as the betrayer of the trust reposed in 

he had meditated upon for years, and in him, and as the destroyer of the liberties 

a passionate outburst of indignation, on of France. 

one gloomy afternoon, in a little court- This produced an immense sensation, 

room in the Palais de Justice, he ha- all the greater because the country had 



13S 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



been long destitute of a protesting voice, 
and the accusations of the young advo- 
cate rang through the whole land from 

Calais to Marseilles. So great was 
Gambetta's personal excitement on this 
occasion that, as M. "Weiss has told LIS, 
the Imperial advocate and the president 
of the court tried in vain a number of 
times to interrupt and moderate his pas- 
sionate harangue; but their voices were 
drowned in the thunder of the lawyer's 
speech and iii the powerful protestation 
of his delivery. 

Thus, in an afternoon. Gambetta 
stepped into the front rank of European 
orators, and into the opposition to the 
Empire. At the general elections in 
1869 lie was adopted as a candidate for 
Marseilles and for Paris. Son of the 
South, with tin: powerful yet poetic 
temperament of the people of Provence, 
he appealed irresistibly to the passions 
and the affections of tin 1 people of Mar- 
seilles, and won his election there over 
such powerful opponents as M. de Les- 
scps and M. Thiers. At Paris his 
victory was absolute. He chose to rep- 
resent Marseilles, and thus permitted 
Rochefort to take his seat in the ('or/is 
Legislatif, for Rochefort had been a can- 
didate in tin 1 same ward as Gambetta. 
He was soon at the head of the little 
band of •• Irreconcilables," as they were 
called, and was one of the most valiant 
defenders of Rochefort when the govern- 
ment asked the chamber to authorize the 
prosecution of the editor of the Marseil- 
laise. 

Looking back upon the history of the 
Second Empire, it seems almost incredi- 
ble that Napoleon III. and his minis- 
ters should not have possessed sufficient 
common-sense to have accepted the 
lessons of French history. They should 
have realized that it lias always been 
fatal to French governments perma- 



nently to trifle witli the liberties of the 
press. But, from the moment that the 
coup d'Etat was a success, the Empire 

hail signalled out the public prints as 
containing the creates! danger to the 
newly made Empire. To read the press 
law of that period is almost stupefying. 
One wonders how a nation could have 
permitted such complete degradation of 
iis liberties. Trial by jury for all press 
offences was abolished, ami the unhappy 
writer who had offended the reigning 
powers was brought up like a com- 
mon malefactor before the Correctional 
Court. In 1852 a specially odious legis- 
lation against the press was enacted. 
It subjected all political journals to what 
might be called a preventive regime, 
placing them at the mercy of the gov- 
ernment. It so raised the '•stamp- 
tax." and the sum of the " caution 
money " to be deposited, that the crea- 
tion of a journal by persons of mod- 
erate means was impossible. It then 
prevented the foundation of journals 
treating of political or social economy 
without a special decree, which it was 
difficult to get. Then, when the jour- 
nal was founded, its existence was ex- 
tremely precarious. A warning would 
be sent in by an Imperial official, and 
the editor was expected immediately to 
profit by it ; for a third warning carried 
with it the suppression of the offending 
journal. It was forbidden to journal- 
ists to give any account of the sessions 
of the Corps L4gi slat if and the Senate 
other than that furnished by the official 
reporters. This regulation, which is 
almost Oriental in its despotic flavor, is 
justly characterized by a famous French 
writer as at once puerile and grotesque. 

lint it is useless to pass in extended 
review the press legislation of the Empire. 
I will finish by illustrating the working 
of the stamp-tax, which was one of the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



139 



meanest of the small tyrannies levied 
against the free circulation of the printed 
word. Every American journal which 
came into France during the Empire paid 
a tax of six cents. Returning from a 
visit to Germany, shortly after the dec- 
laration of war, and just before the 
siege of Paris began, I found waiting me 
at a banking-house eighty American news- 
papers, upon each one of which I was 
compelled to pay the sum of six cents. 
This stamp-tax was a grievous bur- 
den upon provincial newspapers, and 
undoubtedly prevented their extensive 
circulation. M. de Villemessant, of the 
Figaro, tried to avoid a portion of the 



stamp-tax upon his paper by having edi- 
tions printed in Brussels, and brought into 
France ; but the Empire soon put a stop 
to this. In the Corps Ligislatif, in 1870, 
a movement was made to do away with 
the odious tax ; but it was immediately 
stated that " the government could not 
allow the abolition of such a source of 
income before 1S72." The repressive 
influence of the tax can lie best judged 
of by the fact that the Petit Journal of 
Paris circulated only three hundred thou- 
sand copies under the Empire ; but under 
the Republic has a circulation of eight 
hundred thousand copies. 



140 EUROPE IN STORM AM) CALM. 



CHAPTER FOURTEEN. 

The Emperor and his Speeches from the Throne. — Opening Hay of the Corps LJgisIafif.—The Opposi- 
tion. — Sketches of the Leading Members.— M. Thiers and his Attitude towards the Second 
Empire. -The Splendor of his Irony. — His Eloquence < haracterized. — Berryer, Lanjuinais, Jules 
Simon, and. Jules Ferry. — Eochefort and his Yellow Gloves. 

FEW scenes in European ceremonies supposed to have suspended their work 

were more unique in glow of pict- that they might admire the passage of 

uresquc uniforms, brilliant toilettes of their sovereign, but who were really, on 

ladies, and gorgeous equipages, than the most opening days, " hired for the 

opening of the French chambers during occasion." 

the reign of the Emperor Napoleon III. The Place du Carrousel is a noble 

We have seen that the Second Empire square, into which thousands of persons 

was noted for its punctilious regard for can pack themselves without the least 

ceremonials, and the profusion of its in< vemenee. Under the smoothly paved 

splendor, whenever occasion offered. On floor were said to. run huge passages, com- 

the return from Compiegue t<> town, the municating with the adjacent barracks, so 

first duty of the " man of destiny" and that at any time the armed men of Cad- 

his retainers was to open the legislative mus might spring out of the ground at a 

bodies " with a speech from the throne." sudden signal. The brown walls of the 

A procession, in which the order of Louvre, from which look- down the stat- 

preeedence in rank was most carefully ucs of the artists and historians of old 

observed, passed through the Palace of France, are richly andgrotesquely carved, 

the Tuileries on the day of the opening, The beautiful park in the centre of the 

through the r us under the Clock Pa- square is kept green until very late in 

viliou, along the Place du Carrousel, to the autumn, and fountains send up their 

the Salle des Etats, in the ancient Louvre, jewelled spray night and day. In sum- 

The Cent -Gardes, in their charming uni- mer this park is the resort of contem- 

forms of blue and red, rode behind the plative nurse-maids, with babies clinging 

Emperor's carriage, in his miniature to their skirts, lint on the 29th of No- 

journev from palace to palace, gazing vember, " opening day," the square was 

neither to right nor to left, erect, impel- invaded by the showy carriages of the 

turbable as stone images. The crowd members of the diplomatic corps and all 

in the Place du Carrousel was always the great state functionaries, the magis- 

extremely democratic. There were trates, and the representatives of the 

roughs from Belleville, market-women commercial corporations. The diplo- 

froin the Halles Centrales, commercial matic carriages were passed in review as 

men from the boulevards, and line-look- they sped down the narrow line formed 

inn ladies, with their pretty daughters, by the waiting throng, and the occupant 

from the Faubourg St. Germain; and of each vehicle was cheered, or treated 

there, too, was a fringe of working-men, with contemptuous silence, according as 

in blue and white blouses, who were the popular passions were influenced for 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CAL.lf. 



141 







THE SPEECH FROM THE THRONE. 



or against the country which it repre- tion of his intention to " preserve order," 

sented. appeared upon the scene. A double line 

But no demonstrations, either of respect of soldiers extended from the iron fence 

or disrespect, were indulged in when the surrounding the Clock Pavilion of the 

Imperial master, who had inaugurated Tuileries down to the Louvre door, over 

his career by such an energetic affirma- which a silken canopy was raised. < )l!i- 



1 {■> 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



cers with drawn swords paraded before 
their men, and presently the Emperor's 
carriage, with one before and one fol- 
lowing it. drove slowly down through 
the double line. In the Salle des Etats 
Napoleon mounted the throne in the 
midst of his cardinals, his favorites, and 
the various dignitaries he had created; 
and the Prince Imperial was placed on a 
lower chair or stood up nearby. When 
the Empress attended the Speech from the 
Throne she usually arrived a short time 
be fore the Emperor, whogenerallycame in 
in a hurry, plumped down into the throne 
chair, glanced at the decorations and at 
the audience, mopped his face with his 
handkerchief, looked a little perplexed, 
then jumped 11)1 and began his speech, 
which was usually of stereotyped form, 
with very slight changes tor an allusion 
to the important events of the year. In 
18G9 lie observed in his speech that it 
was difficult to maintain liberty peace- 
ably in France. After the speech a 
salute of twenty-one guns was tired from 
the Esplanade of the Invabdes ; then the 
names of the deputies were called, and 
were frequently saluted by applause or 
scornful laughter from the favored ones 
who had been invited to the ceremony. 

The little knot of < Opposition deputies of 

the Corps Legislatif rarely attended the 

Speech from the Throne, and desired 
their absence to be interpreted as a pro- 
test against the Emperor's participation 
in the politics of the Empire which he 
had created. 

The work of the session was begun on 
the following day in the Palais Bourbon, 
which had been invaded by the soldiers 
of Napoleon III. at the time of the coup 
il'Etni. and which was destined to be the 
scene of the Empire's downfall in 1*70. 
This old-fashioned palace, with its great 

d ' like a triumphal arch in the centre 

of an open Corinthian colonnade, is one 



of the gaudy monuments of the eigh- 
teenth century, and was built by 
an Italian architect for the dowa- 
ger Duchess of Bourbon. When the 
Revolution came the palace was confis- 
cated to the nation, and in 1790 was 
known as the Maison <!<• In Revolution. 
In 1795 the reception-rooms of the 
palace were transformed into an as- 
sembly hall for thi' Council of the Five 
Hundred; and in 1804 Napoleon I. 
ordered the construction of the monu- 
mental facade which overlooks the river 
Seine. The palace is adorned with bas- 
reliefs, representing France standing be- 
tween •• Liberty " and •' Public order ; " 
a bit of sculpture which the Emperor, it 
is said, used to contemplate with great 
satisfaction, ami which he considered 
typical of his reign. There are also 
colossal statues to Themis and Minerva, 
and to Sully, Colbert, and other great 
Frenchmen. The hall in which the legis- 
lators of the Empire sat was in the 
form of a hemicycle, with seats rising, 
as in a Roman amphitheatre. Around 
about, at the top. are ranged statues of 
Reason, Justice, Prudence, and Elo- 
quence, and between the pedestals of the 
columns were lias-reliefs, representing 
Louis Philippe accomplishing certain 
acts of his reign. In numerous other 
halls of the palace are paintings by 
Horace Vernet, ami statues of Mira- 
beau, of Bailly, of Casimir Perier, and 
General Foy. The throne hall is dec- 
orated with paintings by Delacroix. 
Attached to the palace is a small and 
elegant mansion, which is always inhab- 
ited by the president of the Lower 
Chamber, ami the possession of which is 
one of the perquisites attached to his 
office. Here Gambetta came, when at 

the height of his career, t 'ctipy the 

rooms in which the Imperial favorites 
had lived before him. and which would 



El ROPE IN STORM ASH CALM. 



143 



have seemed to him, ill 1SGD, as far out 
of his reach as the North Pole. 

The old Palais Bourbon was given 
back to the Prince of Condi, who was 
the grandson of the Duchess of Bourbon, 
in FS14; but he continued to allow the 
State to occupyit, and the Chamber con- 
tinued its sessions there. In ISl'T the 
government purchased from him a part 
of the palace, and in 1830 bought the 
remainder from the Due d'Aumale, 
into whose hands it hail come, spending, 
it is said, about 10,000,000 francs 
for the purchase. In the Revolution of 
1848 the people stormed the Palais 
Bourbon, and when the Constituent As- 
sembly came to take its seat there a 
temporary hall was provided for them. 
This was again invaded on the 15th of 
May, 1848, and was demolished at the 
beginning of the Empire. 

There was more curiosity about the 
session of the Corps Ligislatif in the 
latter days of the Second Empire than 
people manifest about the sessions of the 
Republican Chamber of Deputies, chiefly 
because the newspapers were not allowed 
to indulge in the free-and-easy reports 
of the debates which are now so uni- 
versal. But there was rarely, from 1867 
to the Empire's downfall, any remarkable 
eloquence in the halls of the Palais Bour- 
bon, unless it came from the little group 
of the Opposition. M. Boulter was a con- 
vincing speaker only for those who had 
made up their minds to adopt the Im- 
perial policy. He would talk on for 
hours, uttering platitudes as if they 
were the most brilliant sallies of wit. 
In the autumn of 1869, and during the 
winter session of 1870. the attention of 
the country was closely drawn to the at- 
titude of the Opposition, which had been 
waxing valiant year by year, and which 
now had become openly aggressive. 
Gambetta had not. as yet. begun to 



speak with freedom in the Corps Ligis- 
latif; but his mere presence, after his 
tremendous tilt at the Imperial power in 
his speech about the Baudin subscrip- 
tion, seemed to give fresh confidence and 
energy to the men who had been battling 
for free institutions, and lighting for an 
apparently hopeless cause, since the elec- 
tion of 1857, 

In that year live Republicans entered 
the Corps Legislatif, and all of them were 
destined to play an important part in the 
declining years of the Empire. These 
live men were Jules Favre, Ernest Picard, 
Emile Ollivier, Henon, and Darimon. 
In those days to speak against the gov- 
ernment was little less than a. crime, and 
the majorities of the Empire were almost, 
unanimous. In this trying school Jules 
Favre. one of the most polished and 
accomplished orators whom France has 
ever possessed, won golden opinions on 
all sides for the richness and beauty of 
his diction, and. from all generous-minded 
men, for the liberalism of his ideas. 
Emile Ollivier. too. had no thought of 
rallying to the Empire then ; and these 
few were SO accustomed to lighting alone 
that they weri' somewhat surprised when, 
in the general elections of 18G3, Jules 
Simon. Glais-Bizoin, and many other 
men of mark, were added to their num- 
ber. In 1864 the new elections brought 
to the ('<iri>s Leg islatif no less personages 
than MM. Thiers, Bcrryer, and Lanjui- 
nais. These three strong men gravitated 
naturally to the Republican group, al- 
though it is certain that M. Thiers, at 
that time, would have been loth to declare 
himself a Republican. But their counsels 
and their vast political and legal elo- 
quence added strength to the Opposition , 
which the Empire was far from disdain- 
ing. "We remember well," writes M. 
Jules Simon, " this epoch, when all 
those who did not give themselves tip to 



1U EUROPE TX STORM AND CALM. 

the Empire possessed a common hate whenever it was possible to attack; 
.-ii.il a common love: a hate for the gov- whether on questions of internal or ex- 
ernment whose whole history and policy ternal policy; whether upon free trade 
reposed upon falsehood and tended to or upou lying promises of much-needed 
tvranny ; a love for all liberty, which was reform, — the alert and intense patriot 
doublv dear to them by the contrast." was to the fore, never at fault for a. 
In 18G9 the Opposition was still further fact, and drawing from the storehouse 
strengthened by the election of MM. Bar- of his prodigious memory a hundred 
thelemv St. llilaire. Jules Ferry. Gam- wounding and unpleasant souvenirs 
betta, Jules GreVy, Rampont, Wilson, with which to assail and belittle the Inl- 
and the malicious ami ambitious Roche- perial legend. It is believed that in 
fort. There was but one desertion from the last days of the Empire M. Thiers, 
the ranks of this brave party during the long before he confessed it. was con- 
existence of the Empire, and that was in verted to Republicanism by the keen 
1867, when Emile Ollivier was converted disgust which he felt for the processes 
to the Empire by the specious promises of the Empire. His profound knowl- 
of constitutional reform which the Em- edge of European affairs, his immense 
peror had made. and tender patriotism, his deep regret 
The "Teat men of the Opposition until and shame for the manner in which the 
the opening of 1870 were unques- resources of France were neglected, 
tionablv MM. Thiers, Berryer, Jules and his scorn for the army of courtiers 
Favre, and Jules Simon. The attitude and courtesans which blinded the Em- 
of M. Thiers towards the Empire was peror to the danger approaching him, 
invariably curious, and in some respects caused M. Thiers many a pang which 
comical. No figure in the Chamber was he would not confess lo the stranger; 
more dreaded by the Imperialist party for of all men of this latter half of 
than that of this wizened little man. this century, not even excepting I.in- 
with his white hair, his wrinkled feat- coin, no man has felt so intensely for 
ures. his squeaky voice, and his alum- his country as did RI. Thiers, lie lived 
clant gestures. Around his venerable to see his promises justified, and to 
form there seemed to cling the halo of take into his hands, feeble as they were, 
half a hundred ministerial revolutions, at a time when most men are called to 
of conspiracies and intrigues innumer- sit in a corner and look on, the defence 
able. Wars and rumors of wars, and of the nation which had been so rudely 
diplomatic combinations too numerous tried, and to blow into flame with his 
to mention, were connected with his breath the almost extinguished embers 
parliamentary history. He was a per- of national feeling. 

petual thorn in the flesh of the Emperor, The eloquence of M. Thiers in the 

whom he persistently treated a.s an ill- Chamber of the Empire was rarely, as we 

behaved stripling. Time was. indeed, came to see it in later days, pathetic 

when the old man eloquent, in the and touching, almost surcharged with 

pauses of bis wrath, came down into tears: but it was harsh, biting, vindic- 

the regions of irony, and lashed the tive. sparkling, sometimes wicked. The 

Emperor with phrases which, while they practical side of the old man was always 

could not be resented, cut like the uppermost. He hated, despised, ridi- 

thrust of a keen rapier. Wherever and culed, punished; but he did not weep. 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



14.-) 



He did not rise into passionate appeal dominates the Assembly with his head 

and noble flights of speech until the thrown hack. He carries it as Mira- 

bour of supreme danger had arrived. beau carried his. He settles himself in 

M. Berryer and M. Thiers made a the tribune, and takes possession of it as 

.splendid pair. It was not in vain that if he were the master, I had almost said 




THIERS IN THE TRIBUNE. 



M. Berryer had been called. •• after the despot. But that which is especially 

Miralieau, the greatest of French ora- incomparable in him is the rich sound of 

tins." "lie is," said an admiring his voice, the first of beauties in actors 

writer, who described him when he was and orators." lie was a Liberal whom 

at the height of his brilliant career, Republicans coveted, and with whom 

" eloquent in all his personality. He they could not fail to sympathize, re- 



146 EUROPE IN STORM \M> CALM. 

membering that lie had been the de- Austria in 1859, and expended all the 
fender of Lamennais, thai lie had urged resources of his iron}' on the policy of 
the enactment of many democratic laws the government in Mexico. It was sad 
and that lie had manifested towards the that in later years he was singled out by 
Emperor an uncompromising hostility, the hand of Fate to take upon his shoul- 
even refusing when he was elected a dels the humiliations which should have 
member of the Academy to make the been visited on the Empire, to be put in a 
accustomed visit to the Chief of State, place for which lie was scarcely fit, — that 
It is fair lo suppose that had M. Her- of Minister of War after the cstablish- 
rvcr lived lo join with M. Thiers in the ment of the government of National De- 
great events which followed the Septcni- fense, — and to lie compelled day by day 
ber Revolution in 1870, he, too, might for weeks to fence with that consummate 
have announced his faith in the Repuli- master of intrigue, the then Count liis- 
lic, frankly relinquishing the monarch!- marck, who was prepared to exact from 
cal principles which were no longer France without mercy 
possible iii his country. The other Republican figures in the 

dules Ferry and .lules Simon, as Corps Ligislatif were not of enduring 

members of the Opposition, were widely importance. M. Barthelemy St. Hilaire 

different in their methods of attack was a venerable philosopher, who assumed 

and in their views on many subjects, considerable prominence after the fall of 

Their parliamentary reputation is justly the Empire. Men like Cremieux, Es- 

great, and will live long in the history of quiros, Bethmont, and Wilson were hard 

France. Both hail only to open their workers, and occasionally made good 

mouths to charm the listeners. M. speeches. The obstinate and capable 

Simon, who is to-day more conservative Jules Ferry, destined to have a lone- and 

than he was before the establishment of strong political career later on, was just 

tin- Republic, showed, in his subtle and then emerging from obscurity, writing 

adroit tactics, the results of the eduea- vigorously in the columns of Republican 

tion which he had received at (he hands papers against Baron llaussmann and his 

of the Jesuits; yet he was and is a line administration of the city of Paris, and 

humanitarian, and was then deeply im- recognized as a growing man, but not as 

pressed with the necessity for a complete a leader. Gambetta, as I have said, was 

change, personally grieved at the dura- gathering, his forces for the great efforts 

lion of the Empire, and gifted with such which were to come. M. Civvy, whowas 

facility for luminous exposition of his to be the President of the Republic, was 

views that he was highly prized, even but little heard of The Radical clique 

by those Republicans who did not think distinguished itself, as it does to-day, by 

he went quite far enough noisy and even by absurd propositions, 

Jules Favre had been a conspicuous which the Empire treated with the same 

figure from the outset of the Imperial passionless disdain accorded to the party 

ri'gime. lie had refused to take the oath by the moderate Republicans of to-day. 

to the new constitution. He defended Rochefort felt ill at ease and out of place 

Orsini in 1858 in a speech of ureal bold- in the legislative body, "lie wore," 

ness for the time. He fought the sup- said a lady who described to me his first 

pression of the free press with all his appearance in the Co rps Letjinlatif, — "he 

might. He declared against the war with wore yellow gloves." His picturesque 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



147 



personality procured him much attention, 
however. Ilis tall, gaunt form, his lean 
and scraggy features, his forehead sur- 
mounted with a tuft of hair already be- 
ginningto turn gray, were at once seized 
as legitimate prey by the caricaturists' 
pencils. M. Rochefort never forgol that 
he was born a gentleman, and perhaps his 
yellow gloves were intended as a subtle 
stroke of policy with which to capture 
the Extremist mind. 

The Opposition made a vigorous cam- 
paign against the Plebiscite with which 
the Emperor strove to prop his failing 
fortunes ; and M. Simon has given us a 
lively description of the meetings in the 
line de la Sourdiere, from which head- 
quarters the Republicans used to send 
out hundreds of thousands of circulars. — 
the only sort of political document which 
could he distributed with impunity, and 
then simply because it emanated from 



the elected representatives of the people. 
The Empire always hail its police present 
at these meetings, sometimes in plain 
clothes, but often in uniform, and under 
the pretext that the meetings were of a 
socialistic character. 

This accusation was entirely untrue. 
The battle, although a violent one. and 
fought with consummate energy, was 
lost. Tlie Empire got 7,350,000 citizens 
to vote "Yes," against 1,500,000 
•■ Noes." in favor of its project for 
revision of the constitution, and then 
turned triumphantly to Europe with this 
remark : '-You see that the Emperor is 
indeed Emperor by the grace of God and 
the will of the people, and that the 
Empire will endure." 

So those who are about to die of a 
grave malady speak in hopeful and 
glowing terms of their recovery as near 
at hand. 



148 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER FIFTEEN. 

The Epoch of Unification. — Danger to France from the National Growth in Italy ami Germany. — Na- 
poleon III. andhis Policy of Greed. — II<>\v he was Duped by the Northern Powers. — The Iving of 
Prussia al Compii'gne. — The Coronation March. — Bismarck in Paris. — The Luxembourg Affair. — 
Benedetti and Bismarck. — Tin- Downfall of the Policy of Compensation. 



FROM :i French point of view, and 
for the purpose of carrying out (lie 
traditional policy of France, — a policy 
which we are not called upon heir either 
to approve or blame, — the nation had 
never been so much in need of strong 
diplomats and able politicians as it was 
during the last ten years of the Second 
Empire. Gastelar, in one of liaise 
strange improvisations in which fancy 
and fact run together in perfect and 
dazzling harmony, has characterized 
each of the centuries since the dawn of 
the Renaissance, and lias called the nine- 
teenth century that of democracy. He 
might have added that it was the cen- 
tury of the unification of peoples. 
In point of fact France was in danger 
at the very outset of the Second Empire 
from the powerful movements in prog- 
ress in two neighboring countries in 
favor of unification, Italy, which had 
been for so long merely an ancient 
name, covering, with some sheen from 
its old-time glory, a feeble series of dis- 
severed and warring States, had at last 
felt th«' national impulse, and was work- 
ing with all its might for consolidation 
and for unity. Throughout the length 
and breadth of I iermanv the same 
feeling was more and more apparent 
yearly. ( >n the sands of the north, 
where the Brandenburg pirates had 
once led a rude and reckless existence, 
a power had sprung up, which had 
already cast the shadow of centraliza- 



tion across the thrones of German 
dukes and petty princes, and which 
was now and then bold enough to talk 
of a vengeance 11)1011 France for the 
miseries and injuries which Napoleon I. 
had inflicted upon Germany. 

With United Italy on the one side, 
and United Gennany on the other, it 
was evident that the policy of France 
must undergo vast modifications, and 
that her rank as a power in Europe 
must fatally be reduced. There were 
not wanting Frenchmen who thoroughly 
understood the danger : Frenchmen wily 
and experienced enough to have warded 
it off, or to have won for France, when 
these great movements for foreign unity 
took place, compensating advantages, 
which would have preserved her dignity 
and her station. 

But these wily anil experienced 
Frenchmen had been set aside. They 
were placed in the ranks of the Opposi- 
tion, of a hopeless and barren opposi- 
tion, which could not go to extreme 
limits without risk of summary reproof. 
Down even to a few months before the 
outbreak of the fatal war in which Na- 
poleon III. lost his crown it may be 
said that both branches of the Imperial 
— for it certainly was not a national — 
Legislature, were in complete servitude. 
A glance at their composition will 
serve fully to illustrate this fact. 

The Senate of the Second Empire was 
not only the creation, but the creature, 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



14'.) 



of the Emperor. It was reestablished 
after the coupd'Etat in 1851, very much 
upon the model of the Senate of the 
First Empire, which drew its breath of 
life from Napoleon I., and which pos- 
sessed the most formidable powers, such 
as tin' accusation of the ministers, and 
the right to sit in judgment upon them, 
as well as the suspension of all the ordi- 
nary rules of criminal procedure ; so that 
the Emperor could consummate any in- 
justice which might enter into his head. 
Napoleon III.'s Senate, which was 
sanctioned by the constitution of 1852, 
comprised within its ranks as senators, 
by right of their office, the cardinals, 
marshals, admirals, the members of the 
Imperial family, and in addition to these 
about one hundred and fifty senators 
named by the Chief of the State. 

It was not until April of 1870 that the 
Emperor, beginning to understand the 
immensity of the mistake which he had 
made in taking entirely into his too 
feeble hands the control of the destinies 
of a menaced, almost fated, country, 
decided that the number of senators 
should be increased, and that the body 
should more directly represent the feel- 
ings and wishes of the nation. Vet 
scarcely a year before this attempted 
liberal measure the Second Empire had 
conferred upon its Senate the same dan- 
gerous right which Napoleon I. had 
given to his, — the right to impeach the 
ministry; and this was done in order 
that any minister, who should be in- 
fluenced by the aggressive nature of the 
popular demands for constitutional re- 
form and for a return to liberty, might 
be pounced upon and ingloriously ex- 
pelled from office. 

The Emperor paid his senators well. 
He gave them each 30,000 francs per 
year, and he felt that their important 
service was cheaply paid. Their main 



duty was to watch the Lower House, and 
in see that it never, by any sudden caprice, 
undertook to change the form of govern- 
ment. 

The Senate, that is to say, the Em- 
peror through the Senate, had the only 
right of initiative in legislation. The 
principles of democracy were reversed. 
Laws did not come up from the Lower 
House as directly representing the public 
will, to be discussed, amended, and im- 
proved by the grave and reverend «'(';/- 
neurs of the Senate ; but they went down 
to this second chamber from the Senate, 
with an intimation that they were the 
outgrowth of the Imperial will, and that 
it would not be wise to indulge in too 
many commentaries upon them. For 
over the head of the < 'orps Ligislatif 
always hung the penalty of dissolution. 
In short, the Lower House was merely 
tolerated, while the Upper was maintained 
as the rigid sentinel to watch over tin' 
safety of the Empire, as the archers of 
old watched in the corridors of the 
palaces where the kings took their re- 
pose. 

The Corps Ligislaiif, by the constitu- 
tion of 1852, became a feeble copy of its 
prototype at the beginning of the century. 
The whole electoral body was divided up 
into districts containing thirty thousand 
voters each ; and each one of these dis- 
tricts sent a deputy to the Corps Ligis- 
latif. The members were elected by 
universal suffrage for a term of six 
years. Their privileges were confined 
to discussing and voting upon the laws 
and the taxation of the Empire. They 
could not even introduce an amendment 
into the laws which had been proposed 
to them without the consent of the 
Council of State, which was another 
creature of the Empire. It was felt 
necessary in the constitution of 1852 to 
apologize to the world for this manner of 



150 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

shutting tlic mouths of the reprcsenta- which the Senate could, as il wire, take 
tives of the people, and a paragraph of the place of the Corps Ligislatif in case 
that instrument states that the Corps the latter were dissolved. 
Li'gislatif iii.'iv freely discuss the law, The Senate of the Second Empire lived 
may adopt it or reject it. but may not ingloriou&ly, and dispersed in the .same 
" introduce suddenly any of those amend- fashion. It was not even considered l>v 
incuts which so often disarrange all the the people, who were abroad in their 
economy of a svstein, and entirely change might on the day of the declaration 
the primitive project." This sounded of the Republic (September 4, 1870), 
reasonable to the French people, coming worth while to march to the hall 
as it did after the excesses of 1848; but where the senators were in session, 
in 18G0 the nation had learned the and to turn them out of office. "No- 
terrible significance of the slavery to body," says one of the members of the 
which it had subjected itself. government of National Defence in his 
In 18G0, as a special favor, an Im- memoirs, " nobody even gave a thought 
perial decree gave the Corps Legislatif to the Senate. It had held, on the 
the right of replying by an address to 1th of September, a session at half- 
the speech from the throne. This right past twelve. One of the members had 
was exercised for only six mouths, for protested with indignation against the 
the Emperor, who was beginning to proposition of impeachment made by 
dislike the freedom of the address of the M. .lutes Favre, and finished his re- 
deputies, withdrew the right and re- marks by crying out, in a loud voice: 
placed it by the right of " in + erpella- ' Vice I'Empereur! VicfVImperatrice! 
tiou," or demand in open parliament for Vive le Prince Imperial!' All the 
an explanation of certain points in the senators joined in the chorus. They 
Imperial address. The "tribune," or then discussed the question whether they 
the kind of pulpit from which French should remain in permanent session, or 
parliamentary orators had been wont to should meet again at eight o'clock that 
address their colleagues, was suppressed, evening. They finished by deciding that 
and deputies were obliged to .speak from they should hold a session the next day, 
their places in the hall of assembly, as usual. This was the last vote of the 
The president of the chamber was named session." But, the evening before, M. 
directly by the Emperor, and was paid Rouher, who considered a revolution as 
handsomely for his services, lodging in inevitable, bad asked for a battalion of 
the palace of the Corps Ligislatif, and infantry to protect the Senate, and a 
receiving 100,000 francs yearly. The general had given him a few customs 
Empeior ami his followers always made officers as a guard. ( hi the next day, 
a vigorous effort to avoid coming into when it had been resolved to hold a ses- 
coutact with the Corps Ligislatif, and sion, nothing occurred ; no senators were 
interposed between it and them the to be found. They had littered away 
President of the Council of State, or some into the crowd, and disappeared to 
other members of that body. But the undergo various terms of voluntary 
most tyrannical of all the provisions exile. 

which the Second Empire had imagined It is difficult to judge whether Napoleon 

for placing the government in the bands III. saw the gravity of the mistake which 

of the irresponsible few was that by he had made, before the great collision at 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM 



151 



Sadowa, which brought the formidable 
Prussian nation to the very fronl of 
European powers. Whether or not he 
had learned his error, it was his punish- 
ment that he was obliged to go on alone, 
undertaking a task for which he was in 
unwise fitted cither by nature or training, 
seeing himself day by day the scorn of 
men whom he knew were competent I" 
extricate him from his position, but out- 
side the pale of whose sympathy he had 
placed himself, and from whose knowl- 
edge he could ask no aid. It is the 
fashion among French Republicans to 
attribute all the disasters which befell 
Fiance after July of 1870 to the be- 
sotted policy of the Emperor, which had 
neither firmness nor shrewdness, but 
which was characterized mainly by 
greed. His foible was observed at an 
early date by the apostles of German 
centralization, who had been puzzled 
because the French Emperor was not 
disposed to interfere boldly with the 
various projects which were to lead up 
to the unification of Germany. A 
clever series of manoeuvres was begun, 
with a view to discovering how far 
Napoleon was blinded by his sojourn at 
the height of power, and how far he 
could be urged, and possibly persuaded, 
into acquiescence iu events the accom- 
plishment of which neither a French 
Monarchy nor a French Republic would 
have permitted without a struggle. 

It happened that the King of Prussia 
found it convenient to make a journey 
to Compiegne in the autumn of 1861, 
ami there was much talk in the corridors 
of the palace, and in the clubs and par- 
lors of Paris, of a mysterious triple alli- 
ance of the three Courts of the Tuileries, 
of St. Petersburg, and of Berlin. Pam- 
phleteers wrote of the great agglomer- 
ation of States which represented Hie 

three races, the Latin, the Germanic, 



and the Slavic, to which corresponded 
the three centres of gravitation, France, 
Prussia, and Russia : and the journalists 
of the boulevards treated elaborately of 
the definite establishment of the peace 
of Europe by means of the " threefold 
alliance of the universal monarchies," in 
which should be epitomized, not only 
the three principal races of the European 
system, but also the three great brandies 
of the Christian church. All this elabo- 
rate twaddle was imagined and planned 
by the adroit politicians of tin 1 north, 
coolly and carefully feeling their way 
among the obstacles which had so long 
prevented the consummation of their 
purpose, and which now seemed likely 
to be swept away because of tin 1 lack of 
foresight of a parvenu, who had taken 
into his hands the reins of government 
of a great nation without understanding 
how dangerous it was suddenly to change 
that nation's policy. 

No just-minded man. and certainly no 
American, would for an instant dream 
of blaming the northern politicians for 
their scheme of unification, or of too 
closely criticising their endeavors to 
lessen and weaken the opposition of 
France to that unification. But, from 
the French point of view, the Emperor, 
because of his blindness and of his greed, 
erred unpardonably, and brought about 
the crash which terrified, when it came, 
even such a stout heart as that of M. 
Thiers. 

The story goes, that when the King of 
Prussia made his first visit to Compiegne, 
where Ids renown as a " military prince" 
— as he was laughingly called by the 
courtiers and fine ladies, who professed to 
consider his soldierly frostiness as eccen- 
tric and amusing — had preceded him. 
the Emperor ordered out for his guest's 
delectation the superb regiment of the 
'• Guides;" and the noted band of that 



152 



EUROPE L\ STORM AND CALM. 



regiment, a band which was celebrated 
throughout Europe, played the " Coro- 
nation March." The old King of Prus- 
sia must have thought of this incident 
when he put "ii his Imperial crown in 
the chapel <>t' the Palace of Versailles. 
No man but himself knows whether in 
those days, nine years before the Franco- 
German war. he did not dream of the 
invasion of Fiance ; hut it is certain that 
his first act on returning to his home was 
the nomination of Count von Bismarck 
as the director of political affairs, and it 
was not lone before this great man, 
whose reputation was already European, 
went to Paris to finish at the Tuileries 
the work so skilfully begun at Com- 
piegne by his king. 

In those days Bismarck was the friend, 
and almost the counsellor, of Napoleon 
III. He was very often at his side, and 
never failed to talk of his plan of the 
reorganization of Europe. This reor- 
ganization, it is scarcely necessary to 
say, was based upon unity of action of 
France and Germany. In compensation 
for the accomplishment of German unity 
France should have Luxembourg, later 
on, and should annex Belgium, or should 
have her eastern frontiers rectified, tak- 
ing in the great iron districts of the 
Soar, and even getting back Mayence. 
Prussia, meantime, would annex Hano- 
ver, and would absorb all the German 
Stales, up to the line of the river 
Mein. 

There is no denying the fact that the 
Emperor was completely won by this 
policy of intrigue, — a policy which in 
reality contained no promise of I'ullil- 
nieiit which could be exacted, but eon- 
tented itself with '• glittering generali- 
ties." The Emperor struck the crowning 
blow to his own safety and popularity ill 
France without knowing it. when he an- 
nounced, in one of his annual speeches, 



that Prussia had declared war against 
Austria . ; but that, even if Prussia should 
make conquests of territory. France was 
certain to have compensating concessions 
made to her. 

The lirst downward step in his exte- 
rior policy had been made by the Em- 
peror when he permitted the throttling 
of Denmark ; the second was taken when 
he diil not interfere in the brief straggle 
which ended at Sadowa. There was but 
one step left for him to take, and that 
he took at Sedan. 

After the victory of Prussia over the 
Austrians at Sadowa, neither the Emperor 
nor the Empress of the French had any 
further illusions. It is said that the Em- 
press, speaking one day of her son, re- 
marked " that he would never reign in 
France if Sadowa were not avenged." 
The passionate declarations of M. Thiers, 
although the Imperial party professed to 
disregard them, were warnings which 
made them tremble. M. Rouher, as 
Minister of State, undertaking to place 
in a favorable light the statements of 
the Emperor in his speech about Sadowa. 
employed many specious phrases, but 
could not conceal the truth. " In ques- 
tions," he said, " which neither affect 
the honor, the dignity, or the practical 
interests of our country, was it not the 
duty of the Emperor's government, after 
having loudly proclaimed its pacific 
policy, lo respect and to practise the 
rules of a loyal and sincere neutrality?" 
To this M. Thiers made answer: '-All 
that Germany demands of us is the in- 
difference of France. She could ask 
nothing more to her advantage. Now 
it is this very indifference of which 1 
have a mortal fear.'' 

Republicans and Monarchists appear 
agreed, in summing up the causes of the 
country's disasters, that in 1866 a 
simple manifestation of French sym- 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



pathy for Austria would have hindered 
the progress of Count von Bismarck, and 
would have enabled Austria to inflict 
upon Prussia a serious humiliation. 

It does not detract from the renown 
of Bismarck to show that he was aided in 
great degree in the develop- 
ment of his colossal policy by 
the weakness of the dynasty 
in France. The fate that had 
given the French nation into 
Napoleon's hands prevented 
that nation from interfering 
in the beginnings of German 
unity in 1866. A year later 
it was too late for France to 
interfere, or to insist upon 
compensation. This was am- 
ply shown at the time in 1KH7 
when the French government 
had decided to bring officially 
to the notice of the Berlin 
Cabinet the convention con- 
cluded with Holland with re- 
gard to the cession of the 
Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. 
In France a party, stung by 
the knowledge of the fact that 
its country had in some meas- 
ure been forced into second 
rank by the events at Sadowa, 
had manifested a great desire 
for a war. The Emperor him- 
self saw that the time had come 
when he must satisfy popular 
opinion at home by making an 
aggressive movement towards 
Berlin. He yielded to the 
representations of the Marquis de 
Moustiers, who was at that time Min- 
ister of Foreign Affairs, and consented 
that his representative in Germany 
should present a memorandum. If this 
were done successfully, and Prussia 
yielded, Napoleon thought that the 
sueeess thus won by France would 



be considered as a compensation for 
Sadowa. 

So, on the afternoon of the 1st of 
April, 1807, Count von Bismarck, who 
had been receiving the compliments of 
numerous visitors on the occasion of his 




THE MAN OF DESTINY ON THE TUILERI] 

TERRACE. 



birthday, was just about to set out for 
his place in Parliament, when the visit of 
Count Benedetti, the French ambassa- 
dor, was announced. After the usual 
salutations the ambassador declared 
thai he had a despatch to communicate 
from the French Minister of Foreign 
A Hairs. 



154 



EUROPE IV STORM AND CALM. 



Count von Bismarck was somewhat 
startled. He at once divined the tenor 
of the despatch, as the Luxembourg 
affair was then in full progress, and 
for a moment he probably feared that 
Napoleon had ceased to be a dupe of 
the policy of promises. In short, he 
felt that peace or war hung upon a 
single thread. 

His plan of action was instantly re- 
solved upon. lie knew that Bene- 
detti himself was anxious to avoid an 
outbreak of hostilities between France 
and Germany, and he still had a hope 
that Napoleon III. was not personally 
anxious for war, but, as was really the 
case, had yielded to the representations 
of the angry national party. So when 
Benedetti tried to take from his pocket 
the despatch. Count von Bismarck arose 
and said that he could not at that 
moment receive the ambassador politi- 
cally, as lie was obliged to go at once 
to Parliament, lie invited the ambas- 
sador to accompany him, and continue 
the conversation as they went along. 
As they were going through the garden in 
front of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs 
Benedetti again tried to communicate 
his despatch. Count von Bismarck did 
not reply directly, but as they wended 
their way through the alleys of the 
gardens, he presently said : — 

•• I am going into Parliament, and I 
expect I shall there encounter an ' in- 
terpellation' on the question which is 
lust now so much agitated in the news- 
papers, — the sale of the Grand Duchy 
of Luxembourg." 

•• Yes, I know." said Benedetti, "and 
it is just for that reason that the im- 
mediate communication of my despatch 
seems to me urgent." 

"Very well," said Bismarck, "but 
I must first communicate to you the 
nature of the answer that 1 am going 



to make to the interpellation." As 
he said this he pushed away for the 
second time the despatch which the 
French Knvoy tendered him. " I .shall 
say that the government ignores the 
state of the question, and that for that 
reason I cannot pronounce publicly 
upon its intentions. I shall add that 
1 have the assurance that no power 
will interfere with the incontestable 
rights of the German countries, and 
that the government hopes to mala' its 
rights respected in a peaceful manner. 
That is what I shall say, because it is 
the truth, and because that declaration 
will enable me to undertake negotia- 
tions amicably, and perhaps to arrive at, 
an understanding. But I could not 
give such a response if I knew that 
the convention for the sale of the 
Grand Duchy had been concluded. If 
1 learned of this sale officially I should 
have to say to the Reichstag: 'Yes, 
such a sale has taken place; but never 

will Prussia nor her German allies per- 
mit the accomplishment of this convention 
and the cessi >>i of tin's German territory.' 
You can see," added Count von Bis- 
marck, very innocently, ami quickening 
his pace, -'that after such a declara- 
tion a. grave conflict would be sure to 
arise between France and ourselves. 
This conflict, taking into account (he 
impressionable nature of your people, 
would finish in a rupture, which I 
should regret as much as you would." 

•• In fact," saiil Benedetti, pausing 
and looking troubled, "a war would be 
inevitable after such a declaration." 

At this point in the conversation the 
two diplomats left the garden and 
entered the street. " Well. " said Count 
von Bismarck to Benedetti, " we must 
separate here, and I must now ask you, 
'Have you or have you not a despatch 
to hand me ? ' " 



EUROTE IN STORM iND CALM. 



If)") 



Benedetti bit his lips and reflected a 
few seconds. " No," he said. He put 
the despatch back into his pocket, and 
took leave of Bismarck, who went on to 
Parliament, and responded to the inter- 
pellation exactly as he told the French 
ambassador he should do. 

The result was that the Imperial Party 
in France presently found that it had 
been severely snubbed. The question of 
the Duchy of Luxembourg was submitted 
to the Conference of Londou, which de- 



clared the neutrality of the ( J rand Duchy, 
and decreed the demolition of its fortress. 
The policy of compensation, on which 
Napoleon had based so many hopes, had 
ended in a check to the power of France. 
The enemies of the country which Na- 
poleon hail undertaken to govern alone 
had discovered the joints in his armor, 
the weak spot in his system of govern- 
ment, and no longer treated him as 
serious. 



15(3 



VVROVE IN STORM AM' CALM. 



CHAPTER SIXTEEN. 

Prevost-Paradol and his Fatal Knur. — A Journalist who Yielded to the Seductions of the Empire. — 
The Work which lie had Done Against Imperialism. — Danger of Riots in 1870 . — The Execution of 
Troppmann. — An Experience of the Secret Police. — Gustave Flourens. — The Arrest of Roche- 
fort. — Flourens and J lis Insurrection. 



" TTTHOM the gods would destroy," 
» V says au ancient proverb, " they 
first make mad." After the fatal step 
which awakened the French Emperor 
to the folly of his attempted policy of 
"territorial compensation" and greed, 
he entered upon a course of reckless 
adventure, now making promises of 
reform with such earnestness as to 
create new dupes, who in a few short 
months were bitterly to regret their 
mistake ; now contradicting all that he 
had promised by violent measures of 
repression, worthy of the first days of 
his Imperial career. 

The mention of his dupes calls to 
mind the pathetic close of the life 
of M. Prevost-Paradol, who accepted 
office at the hands of Napoleon III., 
and who had scarcely installed him- 
self in his position as French minister 
at Washington before his eyes were 
opened to the terrible nature of his 
error, ami, his generous spirit torn 
with anguish at the thought that he 
had unwittingly associated himself with 
those who were the betrayers of his 
country's honor and the destroyers of 
her peace, he ended his life with his 
own hands. Napoleon III.'s motives 
tor sending M. Prevost-Paradol to the 
United States were by no means un- 
selfish. They formed a phase of the 
apologetic side of the Emperor's course 
during the hist year of his reign. I was 
told, in 1.S7U, that M. Prevost-Paradol, 



who had heard that his distinguished 
talents were to be rewarded by some 
gift by the Imperial hand at the Tuile- 
ries, was advised by an old American 
resident in Paris to ask for the post at 
Washington, and to accept nothing else. 
Whether or not this were the origin 
of the appointment, the Emperor was 
enchanted in winning over to his side, 
even in outward seeming, one of the 
journalists who had been so stern and 
powerful an opponent of the Second 
Empire. M. Prevost-Paradol had a 
fine record, to which a diplomatic ap- 
pointment under the Second Empire 
was rather a halting conclusion. He 
was one of those brilliant pupils of 
that famous Normal School from which 
came also Taine, About, aud other 
Frenchmen of this generation, who have 
won and who worthily wear laurels. 
Academician at thirty-live ; director 
of one of the most powerful and in- 
fluential of French Liberal journals, 
he was a notable force for good dur- 
ing all the arid period after the coup 
d'Etat. He wrote constantly and abhj 
in behalf of liberty of the press, of 
universal suffrage, and of social reform. 
He was, like so many French scholars, 
a little afraid of immediate contact 
with professional politicians and striv- 
ing radicals in the arena of universal 
suffrage ; and the adherents of the 
Empire were fond of saying that he was 
devoted to the cause of the Orleans 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



157 



princes. That he had much sympathy 
for these gentlemen there is little doubt, 
but. had he lived, it is probable that he 
would have rallied, like M. Thiers, to 
the Republic, and would have been a 
noble worker in the cause of liberty. 

After he had accepted office at the 
hands of Napoleon III. he wrote a note 
to the Orleans princes, which was in 
some sense an excuse for associating 
himself with the reigning powers. " I 
am tired." lie said. " even disgusted with 
tlic press and its bitter polemics; yet I 
feel that I cannot leave the political 
arena, though I am anxious to get rid 
of its battles." His final conclusion was 
that lie could find comfort and strength 
for future work in the temporary accept- 
ance of a diplomatic position. 

I met M. Prevost-Paradol for the first 
time shortly before his departure for the 
United States. He was the only French- 
man at a large party in which there were 
a dozen American politicians, all of 
whom went away with the idea that the 
new French minister was a remarkable 
man. Small in stature, with a face 
somewhat Jewish in type, he was not 
impressive when silent, but lie was mag- 
netic and inspiring in conversation, and 
became at once the central figure of the 
salon. He had the fascinating quality 
of making the person to whom he was 
speaking believe that lie was especially 
charmed by him or her, and he was an 
excellent listener. His English was al- 
most faultless, although he spoke rapidly 
and nervously. After he lectured in 
Edinburgh the English papers were 
enthusiastic in their praise of his lin- 
guistic accomplishments. He had al- 
ways been a close student of English 
literature, had written essays on the 
Elizabethan period, and in his " Pages 
of Contemporary History" lie has left 
many wise and just observations upon 



the great events and lessons of the 
American civil war. These "Pages" 
are sprightly volumes, made up of letters 
contributed to the old Sunday Courierol 
Paris, — a lively journal, suppressed, in 
1865, on the ground that it had insulted 
the Emperor, but in reality because its 
politics were in all respects too liberal. 

What M. Prevost-Paradol had done 
when he was director of the old and 
famous Journal des I>t'l>nts he did again, 
with all the strength of his matured in- 
tellect, in tin- Sunday Courier. He wrote 
in a plain matter-of-fact style, in which 
there was yet a curious savor of Mon- 
taigne, and which was saturated with 
wit. Now and then a doctrine or an 
individual was quickly stabbed and bru- 
tally flung aside, but the usual method of 
M. Paradol seemed to be worrying the 
life out of his enemies by the pricking 
of a million tiny blades. In the article 
which caused the suppression of the 
Sunday Courier lie compared France 
to a fine lady of the Court, who might 
choose her lover among the noblest and 
richest in the land, but who chose ignobly 
to fly with the stable-man. 

The contemptuous nature of this com- 
parison was quickly reported at the 
Tuileries, and M. Paradol went into re- 
tirement until his work, called " New 
France," was published, in 1808. In 
that book he urged upon the country 
the necessity of parliamentary govern- 
ment, with the greatest possible liberty, 
and made an earnest appeal for the re- 
establishment of justice in the courts of 
the land. Then the wave of circumstance 
carried him into the < 'orps Ligislatif; 
and then came the disastrous mistake 
which cost him his life. 

He had been one of the first to point 
out the fallacy of the Mexican expedition 
and to prophesy its failure. He was de- 
lighted with the opportunity of visiting 



158 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

America, and told me thai he intended nothing about their promenades in (he 
i" visit .-ill the importanl centres, and to dark. On the great square of the Cha- 
stely Republicanism where it was prac- teau d'Eau, which to-day is known as 
tised without hindrance. Bui the crash the Place de la R6pubiiqne, a troop of 
came, and carried down the innocent cavalry made its appearance at sunset, 
with the guilty, and France lost a thinker and paraded hither and yon, breaking 
and a writer whom she could ill spare, up any crowds which gathered at the 
As he left the shores of liis native laud entrance of the square, or which seemed 
the echoes of the reproaches of his former disposed to move towards the sections 
comrades rang in his ears, and when he of Belleville and La Villette, where the 
reached Washington, and found thai plebs was beginning to roar. The eav- 
society welcomed him but coldly, think- airy frequently made a sudden raid upon 
ing him a renegade, he was struck to the the spectators, and those who were 
heart. The declaration of war agaiusl caught within the circle of horsemen 
Germany completed his humiliation, and were marched off to prison without any 
so maddened him that he shot himself in opportunity to explain themselves until 
the breast, in his own apartment, shortly the next day. Amusing adventures of 
alter returning from a public reception, this kind, tempered by no little discom- 
He was sincerely mourned by the Lib- fort, occurred now and then to both 
ends in Paris, and by those who had ladies and gentlemen from beyond the 
been most bitter in their attacks upon seas, who were anxious to learn how 
him for yielding even in appearance to Napoleon kept the wicked Parisians in 
the seductions of tin' Empire. order. Once, in February of 1870. I 
Anient and enthusiastic scholars and saw a veritable stampede, hundreds of 
men of letters, like M. PreVost-Paradol men. women, and children rushing l'nui- 
and like M. Flourens, — an episode in tically under the awnir.g of a cafi, and 
whose tragic history may be related crashing into the great plate-class win- 
here, —made the Imperial party so iin- dons, cutting and bruising themselves, 
comfortable that it fell into a subtle in their wild fear of a cavalry charge. 

distrust, and from the time of Victor which was C lucted with more than 

Noir's funeral down to the declaration usual vigor. People tolerated these 

of war there was scarcely a day when things because the press could not report 

troops were not to be seen in some ipiar- them ; or. if by chance it dared to print 

ter of the capital, grimly awaiting the accounts of them, it could not comment 

outbreak of a revolt. Iii January, Feb- upon them so as to awaken public opin- 

ruarv. and March, of 1*70, after the ion. and to arouse the masses to a full 

pulse of the great city was still, late at understanding of their degrading posi- 

night. long lines of troops moved quietly lion. 

through the main avenues, anil took up In those days, too. it was interesting 

their station in the popular quarters, to journey into Belleville and La Villette, 

when' the working-men were becoming taking good care to he furnished with 

more and more ripe for insurrection, papers of identification, and to attend 

When daylight came these long lines of the meetings held in garrets, in the lofts 

men had disappeared. They came and of manufactories, or sometimes in the 

went almost as silently as pliant s, cellars of cheap restaurants. The I-'.m- 

and the mass of the population knew [lire objected ill t<>l" to the public meet- 



El ROVE IS STORM AND CAL I/. 



I.V.I 



iug. It recognized in it the force which 
could overthrow the whole Imperial 
structure. !So when the people began to 
clamor menacingly for the right to as- 
semble they were told that they could 
come together only in the most incon- 
venient and out-of-the-way places. On 
one occasion 1 attended a reunion, as it 
was called, in the garret of a huge ware- 
house at La Villette. At the door of 
the building about fifty sergents de viUe, 
accompanied by their usual complement 
of mouchards, or private detective-., 
were compactly massed together; and 
no person entered without being very 
carefully inspected. Climbing some 
dirty and rickety stairs I came at last 
to the place of meeting, which was dimly 
lighted by wax candles, in lanterns 
hung from great beams, or placed on 
rude wooden boxes. Here, scaled on 
benches, or squatted on the floor, or 
hanging like monkeys from the beams, 
were some two thousand workmen and 
street Arabs. In what might have been 
called the orchestra stalls, or the seats 
nearest the platform, there were a 
few intelligent, middle-aged artisans, 
accompanied by their wives and daugh- 
ters. On the platform sat Rochefort, 
with several resolute workmen, and one 
or two of his fellow-deputies grouped 
about him. At a little distance was 
seated the police commissioner, the 
representative of the central authority. 
and here and there, at the platform's 
side, appeared the three-cornered hats 
of the police. Outside could be heard 
the murmur of angry voices and the fa- 
miliar admonition of the Imperial police : 
" Circidez, Messieurs, circulez, s'il rims 
plait!" 

The speeches were bold enough, and 
speakers like Rochefort and the other 
deputies were direct and telling in their 
attacks upon the government. Hut the 



workmen were usually very illogical ami 
ridiculous in their vaporings. When the 
leading speakers of the evening became 
too violent, in the estimation of the 
worthy commissioner of police, that 

f ■tionary pounded on the table, and 

invited the orator to be more careful. 
At such meetings, when the orator did 
not profit by this invitation*, ami the 
functionary was compelled to repeat it, 
the proceedings could he summarily ter- 
minated, and the police could expel the 
audience from the building. Once, at a 
meeting in Belleville, Rochefort began a 
brief, lint very carefully prepared, speech, 
ending his first sentence with the word 
"Republican." The commissioner of 
police immediately admonished him ; but 
it happened that Rochefort had written 
out his speech, and, being in those days 
unused to extempore speaking, he was 
compelled to read on, and soon came to 
the word " Republican" again. Where- 
upon the admonition was repeated, and 
the commissioner said, " Why should 
you compel me to break up your meet- 
ing? " This made Rochefort angry, and 
also made him eloquent. He turned 
upon the official and indulged in a 
brief philippic upon the tyranny of the 
Empire, bringing in with much skill 
the forbidden word in such a. variety of 
forms and fashions that the police-officer 
at once declared the meeting adjourned 
sine die and left the hall. 

If under these circumstances speakers 
or audience had ventured to remain, thus 
defying the central authority, they would 
all have been subjected to criminal prose- 
cution, and a goodly number of them 
would have been imprisoned. 

The Empire feared for its safety even 
when crowds were brought together on 
such occasions as the execution of 
Troppmann. Those who went up to 
the gloomy square in front of the prison 



inn 



El ROPE IX STOR 1/ AXD CALM. 



of La Roquette, on that clamp winter 
night in 1870 when the celebrated 
criminal lust his head, will never forget 
the elaborate precautions which the 
authorities had taken for the suppres- 
sion of any riot that might occur. The 
sinister Troppmann will be remembered 
ms the man who slew a woman and her 
five children in a field in the neighbor- 
hood of Paris, and who had the pro- 
digious courage to bury them carefully 
in that field, and then to plan and 
cany very far towards complete suc- 
cess a scheme for escaping from the 
country to the United States. This 
five-fold assassination had so horrified 
the people of Paris that they cried out 
universally for the public execution of 
this malefactor, and it would have been 
more dangerous to have refused them 
the satisfaction of waiting in rows, from 
midnight till dawn, around the scaffold 
of expiation, than to run the risk of dis- 
persing them in case they started in 
procession for the Tuileries after the 
execution. 

So persistent were the rumors that the 
insurrection would break out that night 
that, in company with four or five other 
Americans, I went up to the prison of 
La Boquette, arriving there just as the 
clocks were striking midnight. One of 
the gentlemen in the party had procured 
from a functionary, with whom he was 
acquainted, a card, which would, he was 
assured, admit himself and friends inside 
the hollow square formed by the cavalry 
and the infantry, which kept the howling 
and surging mob, constantly increasing 
in numbers, at a reasonable distance 
from the scaffold. 

We had no sooner reached the outer 
line of this strange collection of hu- 
manity than we had a singular and 
striking illustration of the wonderful 
organization of the French secret police. 



My companion had Keen better served 
than he supposed. He had. as we after- 
wards learned, been given a document 
which entitled him to special favor from 
the mysterious and disguised .agents of 
the Empire, who were always moving to 
and fro in crowds. He handed the little 
paper to the first uniformed policeman 
whom we encountered. This personage 
looked at it and was puzzled ; but it was 
instantly taken out of his hand in 
peremptory fashion by a red-nosed party, 
in a faded blue blouse and a dilapidated 
silk hat. Much to our astonishment 
this man, whom we expected to see 
taken into custody by the policeman, 
read the card, said, in a low voice, 
" Mouton" returned us the " safe- 
conduct," and, with a little friendly ad- 
vice as to watching our pockets, pushed 
us on towards the inner circle. We had 
not gone twenty steps further before 
another seedy-looking man jostled 
against us, repeated the word "Mouton," 
and also the wholesome advice as to 
pockets. He went with us a few steps, 
when a consumptive individual, in white 
cotton blouse and trousers, took up the 
magic word, which he seemed bound to 
repeat when he saw the card, still held by 
my friend where it could be seen ; and we 
began to understand that we were being 
passed from agent to agent, each new 
helper being the obedient slave of our 
talisman. But candor compels me to 
state, that just as we were about to get 
into the square there was a great tumult 
in the outer lines of the mob. the cavalry 
turned about and prepared for a charge, 
and our consumptive friend in white 
advised us to beat a retreat, and to take 
refuge in the upper story of some wine- 
shop. 

We took his advice, and soon found 
ourselves the occupants of a little room, 
from which, two or three hours later, as 



EUROPE J.V STORM AND CALM. 



llil 




POLICE HRKAKIXCi UP A KEPUCLICAX MEETING. 



tin- dull gray of morning slowly came, dreds of the waiting men looked like 

we could discern the sinister form of the criminals of the worst sort. The women 

guillotine and the upturned, livid, dis- were loud-mouthed, ami many of them 

torted, ugly faces of the thousands of indecent in their language ; and when a 

men and women who longed to see new detachment of troops arrived it was 

Troppmann die. In truth it was a hailed with threats and shouts of deri- 

dreadful and repulsive spectacle. Hun- sion. 



If) 



EUHOPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



It was then the tradition that execu- 
tions .should take place in France just at 
the dawn, as if society were ashamed of 
the vengeance which it took, and pre- 
ferred to have it before the respectable 
world were fairly awake and at its daily 
tasks and duties. The dawn was faint, 
and from our point of vantage we could 
but dimly discern the wretched murderer 
as lie was brought out from the great 
central door of the prison, with the priest 
holding the crucifix at his side, and with 
an attendant train of physicians, drama- 
tists, and journalists, who wished to 
make a " study from nature." in the 
reai'. The assassin, as he set his foot 
on the last step of the scaffold, was met 
and taken possession of by the execu- 
tioner and his aids, and of the rest we 
could see nothing save a, shadowy 
struggle, which seemed to last for a 
horrible time, but which really was over 
in half a minute. We heard the dull 
thud of the knife. As it descended a 
yell of mingled triumph and execration 
went up from the crowd. The little 
troops of cavalry began to disperse the 
masses of pale and half-famished spec- 
tators. A black wagon, escorted by 
(jeiidarm.es, was driven rapidly up to the 

rear of the scaffold. A rough w len 

box was placed in it. and then the 
wagou and its escort set out at full trot 
for th •cmetery of the < clemned." 

We remained in our perch in the wine- 
shop until most of the people had left 
the square, and then we went down to 
view the scaffold, in front of which we 
found our consumptive friend, in the 
white garments, engaged in conversation 
with an odd-looking Herculean man, 
dressed in Mack clothes, with a shiny 
black hat surmounting his rugged head. 

•• Did he carry himself well?" said the 

police-officer to this gigantic personage. 
'•At first," was the answer; ''but 



when he was placed on the plank he 
tried to bite. Then it was .soon over ; " 
and the robust man drew a cigarette 
from his pocket, lighted it daintily with 
a wax match, and turned his hack upon us. 

" You have been," said our late ac- 
quaintance, turning upon us with a sin- 
ister smile, ■•lucky or unlucky, as yon 
choose to consider it ; " and, pointing to 
the large man, added, ''you have just 
been face to face with the executioner." 

No riot came that night ; the stones of 
La Roquette were stained with none but 
criminal's blood, and forsometime after- 
wards the atmosphere of Paris was peace- 
ful ; but when the obedient Corps Ligis- 
latif had sanctioned the prosecution of 
Rochefort, because of his revolutionary 
language, the agitation was extreme, 
and Flourens, whom I have mentioned, 
was the leader in a riot of very respecta- 
ble proportions. Rochefort was arrested 
one February evening, just as he was 
entering a hall where several thousands 
of people were waiting to hear liiui 
speak, and he was carried off to St. 
Pelagic, the prison in which political of- 
fenders were locked up, so quietly that. 
there was no attempt at rescue made. 
But when the audience learned that he 
had been taken prisoner tin 1 excitement 
knew no bounds. 

Gustave Flourens. who had been one 
of the most daring leaders in the mani- 
festation on the day of Victor Noir's 
funeral, may fairly lie said to have in- 
augurated the attack on the Empire ; for, 
no sooner had a workman cried out, 
" Rochefort is arrested ; they are going 
to assassinate him ! " than he leaped up 
from his chair on to the platform, and 
drew a revolver, pointed it at the police 
commissioner's head, and said, •• You 
arc my prisoner. Come with me ; we will 
do you no harm. 1 proclaim the insur- 
rection." Two or three shots were fired 



FA'ROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



1(53 



in the air, and Flourens, followed by 
three or four hundred shouting and 
frenzied workmen, went down into the 
street, forcing the unlucky police commis- 
sioner ahead of him by occasional sugges- 
tive hints with the barrel of his revolver. 
The people at. once began to build 
barricades, and to prepare for a gen- 
eral resistance on the great boulevards 
which radiate from the Belleville quar- 
ter. Flourens gave his prisoner the 
" key of the fields," as the French say, 
and told him to go and sin no more. 



Flourens was one of those brave and 
hardy spirits, who, like Prevost-Para- 
dol, suit the action to the word. He was 
the son of the distinguished professor of 
natural history at the College de France, 
and until he was thirty devoted himself 
with the greatest enthusiasm to the 
studies in which his father had won an 
European reputation. When the father 
died lie designated the son as his suc- 
cessor, and appealed to the Imperial 
minister to confirm his choice ; but the 
younger Flourens had, like other young 




DISPERSING A PARISIAN RIOT. 



Then he began to search the quarter for 
anus; but before he succeeded in organ- 
izing a well-equipped force the police 
came in crowds, followed by a few de- 
tachments of infantry. The overturned 
omnibuses, half-smashed cabs, and piles 
of paving-stones, were of little avail, 
and the effort of Flourens turned out 
an inglorious failure. Flourens himself 
took refuge in the house of a friend, 
where he was concealed forty days, after 
which he escaped to England, which 
country refused to give him up when he 
was asked for as culpable of participa- 
tion in the conspiracy for assassinating 
i he Emperor. 



men of Liberal and Republican sympa- 
thies, been placed on the black-list of 
the Empire, and he waited in vain for 
the succession to his father's post. He 
even wrote directly to the Emperor, say- 
ing that he felt it a sacred duty to carry 
out the work which had fallen from his 
father's hands; but Napoleon said he 
could not interfere in the appointments 
of his ministers. Young Flourens then 
deliberately gave up his scientific career, 
and went heart and soul into the Liberal 
cause. lie had to go to Belgium even 
to publish his scientific works, as they 
were too deeply tinged with Liberalism to 
be acceptable to the Empire. Then he 



h;i 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



made a long tour in the Orient, took part 
in the Cretan insurrection in 1866, had 
many a wild adventure in Greece and 
Crete, got into :> prison in Italy for a 
political escapade, and finally came back 
to Paris, to plunge into radical journal- 
ism, and at last to lead the insurrection 
which was so quickly suppressed. 

After Flourens had left his English 
refuge he was once mure in danger. In 
Athens lie was tracked by the Imperial 
police, anil the French Embassy de- 
manded iiis extradition. The govern- 
ment was about to accord it when the 
people of Athens rose and insisted that 
lie should not lie given up. He came 
hack to Paris during the September revo- 
lution, at a time when his countrymen 
were unduly sensitive on the subject of 
foreign spies, and suddenly found him- 
self the inmate of a Republican prison, — 
he who had dune so much for Republicans 



and the Republic. He was not liberated 
or freed from the accusation of being a 
Prussian spy until after the Empire had 
been destroyed and the government of 
National Defence established. 

Flourens died, as he had lived, a pas- 
sionate, but ill-advised and reckless, 
apostle of liberty, lie was one of the 
earliest promoters of the Commune, and 
was in the riot when Paris narrowly 
escaped the declaration of the Com- 
munist insurrection, on the 31st of Oc- 
tober, 1870. He perished, as will be 
seen farther on, in one of the wild skir- 
mishes around Paris, in the first days of 
the great struggle between Paris and 
Versailles, in 1871. 

His end was as tragic, but not as 
pitiful, as that of Prevost-Paradol. He 
died fur his opinions ; not because 
he had momentarily wavered in his 
opinions. 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



165 



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. 



The Intrigue of Marshal Prim and Bismarck. — The Events which Led to the Declaration ofWar. — The 
Protest of M. Thiers. — Personal Reminiscences of the Incitement in Paris. — Anecdotes of the I'n- 
rcadinessof the Second Empire. — General Ducrot and His Troubles in Strasbourg. — The Corruption 
and Incapacity of the French Quartermaster's Department. — No Rations. — No Ammunition. 



IT was the cold wind blowing from 
the Pyrenees which finally upset the 
card-house of the Empire. 

The French say that the candidateship 
of the Prince Leopold von Hohenzollem, 
a relative of the Kino- of Prussia, and 
nothing more than a major in the lirst 
regiment of King William's Foot-Guards, 
for the unoccupied throne of .Spain, was 
the result of an intrigue arranged by 
Marshal Prim, who had been desperately 
angered against Napoleon III., because 
that sovereign had upset his ambitious 
projects about Mexico ; and by Bis- 
marck, " who thus found the means of 
isolating France and surrounding her 
with enemies, or at least discovered the 
pretext for a war the almost certain 
result of which his genius enabled him to 
foresee." 

This is not a history, and I do not 
propose to dwell upon the recital, already 
published hundreds of times, of the long 
series of negotiations which led the 
French up to the fatal declaration of 
war. The military party in Fiance 
came to the front at once, and in thun- 
derous tones demanded that the Empire 
should assert its dignity, and should put 
aside the political scheme which had 
been undertaken without the advice ami 
consent of France. It is possible that 
Napoleon III. would have been glad to 
hold in check the passions which his 
previous vacillating policy had done so 
much to unchain ; for it would appear 



that he had resumed his negotiations 
with Prussia in pursuit of his policy of 
compensation and greed ; and at the very 
moment when both countries were trem- 
bling on the verge of hostilities the 
draft of a secret treaty between France 
and Prussia was undergoing revision. 
By this treaty it seems to have been 
stipulated that Napoleon III. should 
recognize and allow till the Prussian 
acquisitions which were the outcome' of 
the war with Austria ; that the King of 
Prussia, on his part, should assist France 
to acquire Luxembourg, — the Luxem- 
bourg which Bismarck hail so cleverly 
saved from the hands of the French only 
two or three years before; that, in case 
Napoleon III. should get or conquer 
Belgium, the King of Prussia should 
give armed assistance to France against 
any other power that might declare war 
against her in such a case ; and, finally, 
that the two powers should conclude an 
offensive and defensive alliance. 

The effect of the publication of this 
document by M. Benedetti, the unlucky 
ambassador who was the representative 
of France in Prussia in July, 1870, was 
rather amusing. Although your Euro- 
pean diplomat neither disdains nor dreads 
a white lie, there was no one bold enough 
to deny outright the authenticity of the 
project of treaty ; and the partisans of 
the Empire, \\ hen called upon to explain, 
said that M. Benedetti had drawn up 
the paper, but had done so at the die- 



Kit; EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

tation of Count von Bismarck. That succeeded in putting Marshal Prim, 

personage contented himself with re- who was not a man of mighty mould, 

marking that sonic sort of an agreement back in his place, and in securing from 

had to lie made with Fiance as she tin 1 Spanish and German governments 

incessantly asked for compensation for the withdrawal of a project to which 

not interfering to prevent the plans of France, as a great power, did not feel 

Prussia from being realized. like giving her consent. Hut from the 

Here we have as g 1 proof as we moment of the proposition of the can- 
need that we are not falsely accusing didateship the Imperial party seems 
the Emperor of the French of following to have thrown all prudence to the 
the policy of compensation, and of hav- winds, and to have acted in the most 
ing been cleverly duped by the people reckless fashion. The simile of the red 
with whom hi 1 wished to make a profit- cloak and the bull is eminently proper 
able compromise. Both Bismarck and here. 

Benedetti said, and have always main- All the supporters of the Empire 

tained, that neither Napoleon nor King seemed, in the eyes of calm and 

William were willing to sanction the impartial observers, to he given over 

treaty which their subordinates had to madness. For those who knew the 

drafted; but the fact that the draft gigantic military preparations in which 

was made by two such responsible Prussia had been engaged for so many 

parlies as the German Chancellor and years, the declaration of Emile Ollivier, 

the French Envoy is enough to show in the tribune of the (''>r/>s Legislatif, 

that there was Royal and Imperial in- that lie and his colleagues accepted the 

tcnlion at some time or other to put it great responsibility of a German war 

into force. ••with light hearts," caused a shudder 

It was not until the end of tin' month of disgust. There was hut one thing 
of June, 1870, that the negotiations to suppose in extenuation of the con- 
relative to the candidatcship of Prince duct of these men who took into their 
Leopold to the Spanish throne were hands the lives and fortunes of a great 
concluded by the Spanish government, nation, and that was that they thor- 
Count von Bismarck, the King of oughly believed in the duration of the 
Prussia, ami Prince Leopold himself, old and traditional military strength 
Marshal Prim, in conversation with of France; that, although they were 
the Flench ambassador at Madrid, sensible of the corruption and rust 
took care to place the affair in the which had done such deadly work 
most disadvantageous light for France, under the Empire, they felt that the 
and maliciously added that the scheme nation in arms would be victorious over 
must be carried through, because Spain any opponents, however formidable. 
could nowhere else find such an accept- Hut. even if they believed this, they 
able candidate. A German on the were culpable, for they could only have 
throne of Spain ! The very idea was had such robust confidence in their 
distasteful to all parties in France, bul country because they had persistentlj 
its effect upon the Imperialists was neglected the study of the progress of 
like that of a red cloak before the eyes Europe in their generation, shut into 
of a hull. Cautious and experienced the petty circle of the Second Empire, 
diplomats, like M. Thiers, would have which made the collection of news and 



EUROPE TN STORM A. YD CALM. 



:c7 



its free publication almost a criminal 
offence, these responsible ministers, 
these influential statesmen, had vague 
notions of the outside world. The 
Duke de Gramont, in the numerous 
speeches which he made previous to 
the declaration of war. adopted the 
tone of one conscious of an overpower- 
ing force behind him. The Prussians 
themselves were staggered by this tre- 
mendous assumption of importance. 
A highly cultivated and sincere French 
official, who was in Germany at the 
outbreak of the war. has left on record 
his impression of the period of doubt 
through which Germany passed when 
the nation saw that war with France 
was inevitable. Was it possible that 
they had made a mistake, and that 
the old triumphant French spirit would 
prove as irresistible as of old? 

M. Jules Simon, and many others of 
equal importance and influence in the 
ranks of the moderate Republicans, say 
that General Prim imagined the candi- 
dateship of Prince Leopold von Hohen- 
zollern, because Napoleon III. had used 
such vigorous efforts to prevent the elec- 
tion of the Due de Montpensier to the 
throne of Spain. "Of course." says M. 
Simon. •• the Emperor of the French was 
bound by his position to exclude a Bour- 
bon from the Spanish throne ; but by his 
opposition he occasioned the Hohenzol- 
lern intrigue, and thus was the cause of 
all our misfortunes." 

But the grave and great accusation 
against the Second Empire is that it 
made war in petulance and recklessness 
when it might have preserved peace, and 
that it declared war without being in any 
manner prepared to carry on a campaign. 
The man who had said at Bordeaux 
that the Empire meant peace deliberately 
cast the nation into a, conflict with a 
powerful enemy. There was not even 



any enthusiasm thi'oughoul the country 

in favor of a German war; the nation, 
bowed under the Imperial yoke, blindly 
accepted the issue of the sword because 
the Empire dictated that it should do so. 
The prefects of the various departments 
had been consulted, and their answers, 
favorable to a conflict, were published. 
But they ilid not reflect public opinion, 
and many of tin' officials timidly ex- 
pressed their belief that the "agricultu- 
ral populations were in favor of peace." 
Garnier-Pages, who represented the sen- 
timent of the Republican Opposition 
in the Corps Ldgislatif, once cried out 
when the subject of war was under dis- 
cussion : •• It is these dynastic questions 
which are always troubling the peace of 
Europe. As for the nations, they only 
ask to be let alone, that they may 
respect, aid, and love each other." But 
the Duke de Gramont, with his diplomatic 
twaddle and his long sentences about the 

dignity of France and her duty to her 
sister nation, overwhelmed the Republi- 
can protests against the struggle which 
was to be productive of such infinite 
suffering. 

There was one voice, however, that no 
platitudes of ministers and no threats of 
Imperial disfavor could drown, and that 
was the piping voice of the valiant M. 
Thiers, so soon to be called to the helm of 
state, and so earnestly patriotic that he 
dared to speak out all that was in his 
heart. On the afternoon of a stormy de- 
bate, when all the Imperial clique was wild 
for immediate war, after he had done 
justice with his keen satire to the auda- 
cious declarations of Kmile Ollivier and 
the Duke de Gramont : and after he had 
spoken for :i lone- time in the midst of 
insults and outcries from those who 
dreaded lest he might interrupt the 
march of events, he concluded his speech 
by saying that he was ready to vote with 



168 EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 

the government all accessary means categorically refused to do anything of 

whenever war should definitely be de- the kind, considering that he had fully 

clared, but he must first know the de- accomplished his duty. In the after- 

spatches upon which the declaration of noon M. Beuedetti returned and de- 

war was to be founded. " The Cham- manded a new audience, but this time 

ber," he said, "may do as it likes. I King William announced that he should 

can foresee what it is likely to do; but, refuse to receive him "if it were to 

as for myself , 1 must decline to partici- resume the subject broached in the 

pate in the declaration of a war which morning;" but lie sent his aide-de-camp 

is so little justified." to say that he should be happy to see 

The moli, which had a short time M. Beuedetti if he desired to make him 

before been ready to march against the a personal visit. 

Second Empire, now joined forces with M. Emile Ollivier, in the session of 

it, and on the night of the 15th of June, the Corps Legislatif at which war was 

when the speech which contained the declared, made a great deal out of this 

virtual declaration of war was known, incident, in insisting that the German 

crowds of half-drunken men appeared press had taken it up, and placed France 

before the house of M. Thiers, and in- and her diplomatic dignity in the most 

dulged in a hostile manifestation. But humiliating light; in short, that all 

he was not without his supporters, and Europe was laughing at them, and that 

as he returned that evening from the such an affront could not be tolerate. 1. 

Corps Legislatif he was cheered all the Emile Ollivier was certainly justified 

way from the Place de la Concorde to the in feeling offended at the tone of the 

Rue Royale, because he had dared to tell German and continental press generally 

the truth to the Empire, and to say that in its comments upon the Benedetti 

the dignity of the nation could bo main- incident. 
tained without plunging into war. But the sneers and the laughter were 

M. Thiers was right in saying that not for France ; they were for the band 
the declaration of hostilities was scarcely of adventurers who had taken posses- 
justifiable, for, although the French am- sion a score of years before, and who 
bassador had secured a complete diplo- were now reaping the fruits of their 
malic victory over the Spanish and folly and presumption. 
Prussian intriguers, the Imperial Minis- So from the little cloud, no bigger 
try was not satisfied, and insisted that than a man's hand, which arose out of 
M. Benedetti should carry his demands General Prim's back parlor, came the 
still further, and right up to the danger wind and .storm which made Europe 
point. On the 13th of July M. Bene- tremble to its base. The appearance of 
detti therefore presented himself at Paris during the days between the loth 
King William's residence at Ems, where of July and the 19th, on which date 
the old monarch was taking his usual the declaration of war. couched in the 
midsummer repose, and begged the most polished diplomatic language, was 
king to authorize him to convince the handed to Prussia, was extremely curious. 
French government that, in case the The usual phenomena attendant upon the 
Hohenzollern project should lie brought sudden awakening of a nation to the 
up again, he would interpose his royal knowledge that it must instantly prepare 
authority to quash it. The old king for defence and offence were visible in 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



1(59 



camp, in court, and on the street. The 
Emperor shut himself up mornings in 
the Palace of Saint-Cloud, and was re- 
ported to be organizing the forthcoming 
campaign with great skill and energy. 
That which first impressed me. as a 
spectator, was the paucity in number 
of the troops which came and went, and 
the confusion apparent in all the branches 
of the administration. A visit to the 
Ministry of War was like a promenade 
into Bedlam. Here was no silent disci- 
pline. The streets of the capitol at 
night were paraded by long processions 
of workmen, in white and blue blouses, 
and by the numerous collection of 
vagabonds who always come to the sur- 
face in abnormal times; all this riff- 
raff singing patriotic songs in the 
loudest voices, brawling and manifesting 
under the balconies of unpopular depu- 
ties, threatening the Republican Opposi- 
tion with dire consequences, because it 
had dared to hesitate on the threshold 
of war. 

The Imperial Guard went out at night 
under the glare of torch and gas-light, 
and to the music of splendid bands, and 
this handsomely equipped corps made a 
vast impression on the populace. "To 
Berlin ! To Berlin ! " was shouted on all 
sides. Enthusiastic citizens seated under 
the cafe awnings embraced each other, 
and promised themselves the pleasure 
of visiting the great Prussian capital 
when the French armies should be there. 
Little boys shouted insults for the enemy 
beyond the frontier. Innocent strangers 
were hustled and accused of being Ger- 
mans ; and. when tliey denied the harsh 
impeachment, were insulted because they 
were not Germans. Popular passion was 
at high-water mark: the Emperor was a 
great man : he had done no wrong. lie 
would lead his armies to glory. The 
Republicans were milksops, and the Prus- 



sians were mere food for French bayo- 
nets. It was an intoxicating moment. 
The masses of the Parisians fancied that 
the Empire must have at its disposition 
vast military resources; and they slept 
as comfortably after as before the decla- 
ration of war. 

The Internationale showed its ugly head 
in the midst of the tumuli. No doubt 
there was in many breasts the hope that 
the Commune might then be declared, 
and the great municipal insurrection 
might be successfully launched on the 
stormy waves of popular excitement. 
In the theatres the actors were called 
upon to recite patriotic poems ; and at 
the opera M. Faure was obliged to sine 
Alfred de Musset's biting and satiric 
verses against the Prussians. Here 
and there the Marseillaise, so long for- 
gotten, burst out ; and the Imperial 
Police were frightened at the energy with 
which it was sung. They dreaded the 
hymn of Rouget de l'Isle. because, 
though it meant a menace to the Teutonic 
enemy, there was in it also a threat for 
tyrants at home. In the Imperial Senate 
the declaration of war had been saluted 
with cheers, although the Senators knew 
that the Empire had no ally, and could 
count on none at the outbreak of hos- 
tilities. 

The utter lack of preparation for war 
on the part of the Second Empire 1 has 
now become historical ; but few writers 
who have traced tile course of the war 
of 1870-1*71 have given half the facts 
concerning it. On the 20th of July, at 
ten minutes to teu in the morning, and 
less than twenty-four hours after the 
presentation of the official note declaring 
war by the representative of France al 
Berlin, the Quartermaster General .it 
Metz telegraphed to the Minister of War 
in Paris: "There is in Met/, neithei 
sugar, nor coffee, nor rice, nor brandy, 



170 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



nor sail : little pork, and small biscuit. 
S.iK 1 iii haste a million rations by way 
of Thionville." On the 21st of July the 
General commanding the Second Corps 
telegraphed to Paris: "The Depdt 
is sending enormous packages of maps, 
which are useless for the moment. 
We have not a single map of the French 
frontier, and this is the one which we 
specially need." < >n the 21st of July 
General Michel telegraphed from Belfort 
to the Minister of War in Paris: "Just 
arrived at Belfort : cannot find my 
brigade; cannot find a Division Gen- 
eral; what must I do? I do not know 
u here my regiments are." ( >n the 
24th of July the General commanding 
the Fourth Corps telegraphed : " Fourth 
Corps has neither canteens, nor ambu- 
lances, nor baggage-wagons : Toul, 
garrison town, is completely bare of 
everything." On 'lie same day the 
Quartermaster of the Third Corps tele- 
graphed : ••Our corps leaves Metz to- 
morrow. I have neither hospital tenders, 
nor workmen, nor ambulances, caissons. 
nor Held ovens, nor scales for weighing 
the forage. 1 beg Your Excellency to 
take me out of the scrape into which 1 
seem to have got." 

()u the 25th the sub-quartermaster 
telegraphed from Mezieres : " There is 
neither biscuit nor pork in the fortresses 
of Mezi&res or Sedan." On the 27th 

the Major-General telegraphed to the 
Minister of War from Metz : "The de- 
tachments joining the army here con- 
tinue to arrive without cartridges and 
without camp materials ! 

General Ducrol was Division Com- 
mander at Strasbourg, both before and 
a tier Sadowa, lie made continual reports 
to the Minister of War concerning the un- 
satisfactory condition of the arsenal 
under his command. The ambulance 
material, as at .Met/., was incomplete 



and insufficient. In the Strasbourg 
arsenal there were two thousand cannon, 
but only tour hundred or live hundred 

which were lit to serve. There were ean- 
non-shot or, lather, great stone bullets, 
which dalcd from the lime of Louis 
XIV. There were guns, but half of 
them were Hint locks. As to the camp 
equipage, everything was in I lie utmost dis- 
order. Even the most necessary articles 
were lacking, such as the halters for 
picketing horses. An army corps of 
thirty thousand men needed one hundred 
and forty-four wagons in ils train. 
Strasbourg could furnish but eighteen. 
Even in 1869 the population of Stras- 
bourg, which had heard of the investiga- 
tions of General Ducrot, was alarmed al 
the poorness of its defence ; and the sub- 
ject was eagerly discussed. The quar- 
ter-master twice wrote to the Minister 
of War. at the request of the Stras- 
bourg population, and indicated that 
something must be done lo strengthen 
the town, which was in such an exposed 
situation. In the ambulance department 
there was not one-tenth of the material 
which would he necessary in war time. 

The negligence so manifest at Stras- 
bourg was visible everywhere after the 
outbreak of the war. M. de Seganville, 
quartermaster of Marshal MacMahou's 
army corps, was literally in despair 
because of the condition in which the 
administration left him. " I have noth- 
ing," he said, "for my forage depart- 
ment or for my hospitals." 

Marshal Nicl wasdeeply humiliated by 
the deplorable condition of the French 
army, and especially of ils quarter- 
master's department. Marshal Nicl was 

one of the few French soldiers who had 

taken into account the change that two 
successive wars had brought about in 
Germany, and the dread silent organ- 
ization that that country had been 



EUROPE IN STiillM AND CALM. 



171 



undergoing for fifty years. The reforms 
which lie began in France were wise; 
and, had they been fulfilled, would have 
placed the country upon an excellent de- 
fensive footing. In 1868 the new military 
law which had been prepared by him was 
voted, and its execution was begun. 
By the terms of that law the armed force 
of France was composed of the active, 
the reserve, the Mobile National Guard, 
and the navy. The reserve had for its 
mission the reinforcement of the active 
army, the occupation of fortresses, and 
furnishing garrison troops ; while the 
National Guard Mobile, as it came to be 
called during the war, was to lill up 
gaps in garrisons on the national soil, 
and to form a substantial reserve. The 
principle of obligatory service just now 
so firmly established under the Republic. 
was considerably extended by this law. 
Substitutes, however, were still allowed : 
but bounties were suppressed. The 
duration of service in the active army 
was brought up to nine years ; five under 
the flag, and four in the reserve. The 
men of this latter category were to be 
called up only in case of war, and by 
Imperial decree. The old division of 
the annual contingent into a first and 
second portion was preserved. Under 
Marshal Niel's reform law the French 
army would, with the calling up of the 
contingent of 1875, have a war effective 
of eight hundred thousand men ; and in 
the same period the National Guard 
Mobile would have reached the figure of 
five hundred thousand men. But death 
came to take Marshal Niel in the midst 
of his preparations for reorganization; 
and the country was left without his 
advice and counsel in the terrible 
moments of 1870. 

It is said that the plans of the pro- 
jected campaign in Prussia, which were 
being elaborated by the Emperor and his 



councillors, were changed three times, 
after the most herculean labors had 
been performed on each plan, in order 
thai the Empress's pet project of hav- 
ing General Frossard in a prominent 
post could lie carried out. Marshal 
Le Bceuf continued to tell the country 
that it was ready for war, that its sol- 
diers did not lack a gaiter-button or a 
strap. But the solemn truth became 
daily more and more evident. The Em- 
pire could not put in line an effective force 
equal to more than a third of the German 
numbers. Out of four hundred and sev- 
enteen thousand soldiers of the Guard 
Mobile only one hundred thousand were 
armed and organized. Half of the guns 
in the soldiers' hands were muzzle-load- 
ing. Although the Field Artillery had the 
material necessary for live hundred bat- 
teries, there were men and horses for 
only one hundred and fifty-four batter- 
ies. At the end of July there were but 
six hundred and twenty-lour cannon, in- 
cluding the famous mitrailleuses, ready to 
enter into the campaign. Of the three 
million three hundred and fifty thousand 
guns which were on the artillery regis- 
ters a great number were, on the open- 
ing of hostilities, undergoing repairs. 
The arming and assembling of the Mo- 
biles in the provinces was done in the 
most desultory and incomplete fashion. 
A French writer has drawn a curious 
picture of the departure of the 19th 
Regiment of (her. which left Bourges 
on the 22d of September to go up to 
Orleans, and enter immediately into a 
campaign against the magnificently 
equipped regiments of Germans. " Not 
only." he says, -'was this regiment 
badly equipped, but most of the soldiers, 
taken suddenly from the fields and away 
from their farms, wore entirely unarmed. 
Some few of them had guns, which had 
been brought in great haste from estab- 



172 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

Iishments at which they were undergoing batteries at a certain point on the fron- 

repairs." '• At the battle of St. Quen- tier at the beginning of the campaign; 

tin." says another writer, " the battal- but there was only " single officer in the 

ions of a legion of Mobiles were deci- whole neighborhood who kneio how to 

mated by shell and shot; but they did use them. 

not see a single enemy, the Pi us- The catalogue of the shortcomings of 

siaus being carefully concealed on the the military department of the Empire is 

surrounding woody heights, and the so long that 1 may only touch upon it 

French soldiers had. for their defence, here. After the first battles on the 

guns carrying only two hundred yards." frontier I had occasion to go from 

General Ducrot arrived with his divis- Frankfort-on-the-Main to Strasbourg on 

ion at the outset of the campaign in a an excursion which I made in search of 

village and found a. captain of the chas- a military pass, — an indispensable docu- 

seurs a pied representing the whole nient in those strange days of August, 

quartermaster's department. This cap- 1870. My companions in the compart- 

tain was alone, without money, without meiit of the railway carriage were two 

employes, without carriages, without respectable gentlemen, who looked like 

workmen, without a single kilogramme Germans; but I presently discovered 

of bread or meat. The troops ate up that they were citizens of Strasbourg, 

their reserve rations; then the general and I could not help overhearing their 

sent For the single representative of the conversation. One of them was reciting 

quartermaster. This personage con- with great animation the cause which 

tented himself with saying, in reply to led. in his opinion, to the French de- 

Geueral Ducrot's remark that his sol- feat at Woerth,or Reichschoffen, as the 

diers had had nothing to eat, "Impos- French call it. lie laid the whole fault 

sible ! I have just been buying some on the quartermasters' departments, 

things." General Ducrot, thoroughly "The officers," lie said, "act as if 

angry, cried out. " My soldiers must they were at a picnic. They pitch 

have something to eat. I don't care what their tents, and the soldiers spread their 

you were buying or going to buy; but tallies with costly linen, with glass ware, 

you must forthwith produce- bread and and with innumerable bottles of wine, 

meat." Two hours after the fright- In the morning the soldier finds that be 

ened intendant sent in thirty-six bakers, has no coffee to drink, and that bis soup 

These bakers managed to find some is not made. Where are our old generals 

Hour in the villages, and to get together who used to say: ' Le snliJut ne pent 

some bread. Then General Ducrot rien faire s'il n'a pas mange la soupe'?" 

hunted out some butchers in the regi- — (The soldier is good for nothing until 

ments, got them to kill cattle taken at he has swallowed his soup. ) 
random in the neighboring stables, and The quartermaster of the Sixth Corps 

so managed to get food for his hungry is on record as having written: "The 

men. There were plenty of regiments chief quartermaster has asked me for 

which had no blankets; hundreds upon four hundred thousand rations of biscuit 

hundreds of the men in the reserve bad and for field provisions. I have not a 

never taken a chassepot in their hands, single ration of biscuit nor any field prq- 

iir ever seen one until they were called visions." The Emperor, as soon as he 

under lire. There were two mitrailleuse got to the front, was much distressed 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



1 7,'? 



and, no doubt, greatly alarmed at the 

lack of food and anus. He wrote to the 
Minister of War: "I see that we lack 
bread and biscuit for the troops." Hut 
that was not all. They lacked caissons, 
canteens, means of transport, revolvers 
in the arsenals, cartridges for the mi- 
trailleuses, surgeons for men and horses : 
everything, in short. 

Meantime the magnificence of the Im- 
perial household was by no means to be 
neglected, even in the field. The fol- 
lowing plan, drawn up at the palace of 
St. Cloud, the 3d of July. 1870, three or 
four days before the departure of the 
Emperor, by the Adjutant-General of the 
Palace, will give an idea of the manner 
in which Napoleon III. expected to 
traverse Germany on his triumphal 
march : — 

" Maison de l'Empereur. 
" Service of the Grand Marshal. 
" Notes oi, flu' Service of MM. les Aides- 
de-camp and Orderlies near the 
Emperor in the Field. 

" The aides-de-camp and orderlies will 
serve in alternate order, beginning by 
priority of age and rank. 

" There must be always two tallies, 
whether at a bivouac or during long 
stays, so that the Emperor may have 



the means of inviting few or many people 
to dine, as he pleases. 

" At the table of the Emperor will sit 
the aide-de-camp who is on duty and the 
first groom, if the Emperor orders it 
thus. The second table shall he pre- 
sided over by the adjutant-general ; and 
there shall also sit MM. les aides-de- 
camp, the orderlies, the grooms, the 
officers attached to the aides-de-camp, 
and, if necessary, the secretaries of the 
Cabinet. 

'■The valets de chambre will bivouac 
or camp in shelter tents, carried in the 
wagons of His Majesty. 

" The baggage of the Emperor shall 
be escorted by a brigadier and six gen- 
erals of the squadron of the guard. 

"There shall be allowed, on entering 
the campaign, to MM. les aides-de-camp, 
designated to accompany the Emperor, 
20,000 francs, and to the orderlies, 
1 5,000 fraucs. The first shall have four 
saddle-horses ; and the latter three. 
These gentlemen can each take witli 
them a valet de chambre." 

Then follows an interminable list of 
the directions as to the Imperial kitchen, 
the wardrobe, the bedding, etc.. all con- 
trasting rather singularly with the sim- 
plicity which Napoleon I. often affected 
when he was ou active service. 



174 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. 

Departure of the Emperor for tlie War. — Vulcanic Throes Renewed.— Movements of the Internationale 

— The German Workingmen's Address. -The Imperial ( ' i al Iilois. Foreshadowing of the Com- 
mune. — M. Rothan's Revelations. — Bismarck and His Views of the War. — Alarm of the German 

People. Fears of a French Invasion. — Emile < »lli\ ier's Account '>t' the Manner in which Hostilities 
w, iv I lecided upon. — M. Rothan and the Duke do Gramont. —The French Minister of War is Sur- 
prised. Marshal I.e Boeuf's Deceptions. 

ALTHOUGH the Emperor went away offence under tin' Empire, were' tried and 

In the war witlt tlie air of one uh" sentenced to various terms of imprison- 

was ;i( i< nit ii> conquer liis toes without ment. The places of those who went 

difficulty, liis heart was tilled with many to lill the prisons were rapidly taken by 

misgivings, for he knew that he left a others who had sworn eternal hostility to 

powerful enemy behind him. The vol- the Empire, and not only to it, but to the 

canic throes were once more clearly per- whole organization of existing society. 

ceptible throughout the whole of France. It now appeared as if the Empire must 

The nati which professed to believe take upon its shoulders the burden of a. 

itself upou the eve of a vast andunparal- great invasion, for no Frenchman fancied 
leled military triumph, was torn by in- for an instant that :i war would be any- 
lernal dissension, and was on the very thing but an invasion of places beyond 
ver°*e of civil war. The repeated mani- the Rhine. Even the new apostles of 
testations agaiust the Empire, in Febru- the Internationale boldly showed thern- 
arv. in March, and in .May. 1870, hail selves, and grouped about them all the 
o-iven the mysterious and audacious In- discontented and dangerous in the ranks 
ternational Society of Working-men fresh of the Radical Republicans. The Inter- 
courage. This new society knew that it nationale rather inconsistently declared 
had only to show its head to lie struck against the war, which it was not sorry 
down relentlessly by the Empire, which, to sec begun, as it hoped that by embar- 
while it prof essed most liberal sentiments rassing the Empire it might enable the 
with regard to the working-men, did noth- workmen to carry out their purpose of 
ing to ameliorate their spiritual condition, complete emancipation. An address was 
The strikes at the great metallic establish- issued by a group of French workmen, 
ment of Creuzot, which were under the disclaiming all national hatred and re- 
immediate direction of M. Schneider, one pelling the idea of the necessity for a 
of the most important members of the hostile invasion of a neighboring country. 
Imperialist party in Paris, had been put To this little group of toilers came. 
down, and had awakened discontent and as powerful aid, men of high social 
open ao'oression among the working-men standing ami intelligence, like M. Age- 
in such great industrial centres as Ron- nor de Gasparin and Edgar Quinet. 
hai\ and Amiens. In .bine of 1870 These eminent thinkers held a meet- 
tliiriv-eiuht members of the association, ing. at Belleville, to protest against the 
accused of being members of a secret declaration of war; and as members 
society, which was an unpardonable of the International League of Peace 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



r 



might have had some influence under a 
free government. But freedom of speech 
within the boundary of Fiance was not 
yet woii ; and the furious Imperialist war 
party stigmatized as Prussians all those 
who ventured to hiut that there was 
really no adequate provocation to war. 

To the address of the French work- 
men and to the other humanitarian utter- 
ances from France there was a strong and 
manly response from beyond the Rhine. 
The International Association of Work- 
ing-men in Berlin signed a letter, which 
is worthy of being copied here, as tending 
to show how easily European wars could 
be prevented if it were not for the excess 
of power placed in the hands of the chiefs 
of the royal dynasties : — 

"To THE WORKING-MEN OP FRANCE: 

We also wish peace, labor, and liberty. 
This is why we associate ourselves 
heartily to your protest. Inspired with 
ardent enthusiasm against all obstacles 
placed in the way of our peaceful devel- 
opment, and especially against the savage 
practice of war. animated only by frater- 
nal sentiments, we join hands with you, 
and we swear to you. like men of honor, 
who do uot know how to lie. that we find 
in our hearts not the least national hatred ; 
that we are submitting merely to force. 
ami enter constrained and compelled 
into the hands of soldiers which are 
about to spread misery and ruin through 
the peaceful fields of our countries. 

"We also, like yourselves, are men of 
combat and action ; but we wish to com- 
bat by the pacific use of all our forces 
for the good of our kindred, for the 
benefit of humanity. We wish to com 
bat for liberty, equality, and fraternity ; 
to combat against the despotism of 
tyrants, who oppress sacred liberty, 
against falsehood and perfidy, from what- 
ever quarter they may come. We 
solemnly promise you that neither the 



roll of drums nor the thunder of cannon, 
nor victory, nor defeat, shall turn us 
from our work for the union of the Pro- 
letariat of all countries. We also, like 
yourselves, no longer need any frontiers. 
because we are on both sides of the 
Rhine. In old Europe, as in young 
America, we have our brethren, with 
whom we are ready to go to the death 
for the aim of our efforts, — the Social 
Republic. Long live peace, labor, and 
liberty! " 

It is not difficult to discern in the 
frank and courageous utterance of this 
proclamation a distinct advance in the 
character of the International Society of 
Working-men from the time when, in 
1867, it published the twaddle from which 
I have given extracts in a preceding 
chapter. But the golden dream of the 
enthusiastic laborers on both sides of the 
Rhine was not destined to be fulfilled. 
The Proletariat was fated to indulge in 
the wildest and vilest excesses in France, 
and to be led away into the most danger- 
ous follies of socialism; while the Ger- 
mans were constrained, by the exigencies 
of national unity and the iron military 
discipline ami despotism which had been 
inaugurated in their country, to put off 
their part of the great International Revo- 
lution and to fight their brethren with 
all the energy that they possessed. That 
there were scores of thousands of men 
in the German army who abominated 
the war into which they were thrust, and 
who were as ripe for a socialist revo- 
lution as were the wildest members of 
the Paris Commune, therecan beuo pos- 
sible doubt. I myself heard a Prussian 
soldier say. at Ecouen, on the day after 
the capitulation of Paris, and alluding to 
the lengthy campaign which now seemed 
drawing to a close: ■• I wish that the 
accursed swindle were over, and that I 
had never been drawn into it." 



176 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

On the day, too, before the declara- to answer the remarks addressed him 
tion of war was officially notified to by the presiding judge, and said: "I 
Prussia by the confident and jubilant simply ask you to give the order to the 
war party in France, a little procession gendarmes to take me back to my 
of prisoners was brought up to the bar prison." This unwonted insolence so 
of the High Court of Justice, convened startled the magistrate that lie told the 
at Blois. for the express purpose of prisoner to sit down and stop talk- 
stamping out with one vigorous move- ing ; whereupon Ferre said : •' You have 
ment the leaders of the working-men's the force now. That is all right. I'se 
opposition to the Empire. The indict- it. But when we get it look out for 
ment against the majority of these men yourselves. I am a Republican." The 
was for participating in a conspiracy, sinister words of Ferre were well re- 
having for its end an attempt against the membered during the anguish of the 
safety of the State and against the life Commune, for lie was one of its pro- 
of the Emperor. Among the members motel's and the prominent member of its 
of the counsel for the defence were executive force. After hearing this last 
such distinguished Republicans a- Fan- remark the judge Ordered Ferre to 
manuel Arago and Floquet. One of stand up and to be interrogated once 
the persons accused was Megy, who had more ; but the prisoner refused. " Then 
been the first Frenchman in the later we shall compel you," said the judge. 
days of the Empire to protest against " If I come here again," answered Ferrfe, 
the violation of his domicile by police "some one will have to carry me." 
agents, who could bring against him no Despite this violent attitude Ferre 1 was 
accusation except that he was suspected acquitted of conspiracy, of which for 
of conspiracy. Megy had shot anil that matter he was innocent enough. 
killed a police agent who was forcing his Megy and many others were sentenced 
way into his room, and desired to excul- to twenty years of hard labor each; and 
pate himself on the theory that individual men whose only offence had been an 
liberty must be respected, ami that the incautious participation in a secret S0- 
members of the dominant party must eiety were sentenced to three, five, ten, 
be taught that in undertaking tyrannical or fifteen years of imprisonment. But 
measures they take their lives in their less than two months afterwards the 
hands. The other prisoners were men majority of them were free; for the 
who had participated in the various Empire had passed away like a vision 
attempts at insurrection in the spring of the night, leaving the country to 
and early summer, and they were no suffer from the effects of the evil pas- 
little amazed at seeing as the principal sions which the Imperial tyranny had 
witness for the government one of the roused, and which, when they found 
men whom they had supposed to he their that they could not wreak their vengeance 
firmest ally, almost a leader, and who upon the fallen tyrant, turned it upon 
was nothing but a police spy. All the the innocent. 

prisoners were aggressive and violent in No journal in Paris, or in any part 

their demeanor. The Imperialist magis- of France, ventured more than the 

trates lie<_.:wi to realize for the first time mildest comments upon this whole- 

that the regime of terror was over, sale trial and the savage sentences which 

Ferre, accused of conspiracy, declined ended it. And meantime the attention 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



177 



of the public was thoroughly engrossed 
with the procession towards the Irontier. 
Rarely has a great war been entered 
upon with more apparent gayety on both 
sides, until the miserable poverty and 
neglect of the quartermasters' depart- 
ments were exposed. The French sol- 
diers manifestedall the traditional gayety 
of the Gauls, and the Germans, on their 
part, came up to the Rhine and began 
to climb the great hills of the Palatinate 
as if they were on a pleasure excursion. 
Every day the people of Paris were 
treated to a bombastic manifesto from 
the Imperial Ministry. Emile Ollivier, 
in describing to a friend the manner 
in which the army of Napoleon would 
vanquish the Prussians, says : " We 
shall blow them away." The Empress 
Eugenie, who had when the war was 
first declared said, "This war is my 
war, ami I must have it." inspired the 
whole Court with her brilliant pictures 
of the approaching success of the Na- 
poleonic arms. But there were not 
wanting men who were serving the Im- 
perial cause, who had clear vision, and 
whose hearts were filled with sorrow as 
they noted the approach of the catas- 
trophe. M. Rothan, who was Consul of 
the French Empire at Hamburg at the 
outbreak of the war, has left on record 
an interesting statement of the illusions 
of his own government, illusions which 
he tried in vain to correct, and for 
venturing to doubt which he narrowly 
escaped the charge of lack of patriotism. 
It is to M. Rothan that we are indebted 
for one of the clearest and most concise 
accounts of the situation in North Ger- 
many in the early days of July. lie 
thinks that Prince Bismarck was for a 
time after the question of the oaudi- 
dateship of Prince von Hohenzollern 
came up, in a very dangerous position, 
and that he might easily have been 



precipitated from its high place. His 
policy was the Sllbjectof the bitterest criti- 
cism, even among his own diplomatic 
agents. " Bismarck could count," says 
M. Rothan, ••neither on the assistance 
of Wurteniburg, nor that of Bavaria. If 
Prussia, during the first week of the dif- 
ficulty, from the lid to the 1 1th of .Inly, 
had raised at Stuttgart or Munich the 
question of casus foederis, she would have 
encountered a peremptory refusal, lie 
neutrality of the southern kingdoms 
would have taken from the war its na- 
tional character, and would have main- 
tained the road open between fiance and 
Austria ; that would have meant one hun- 
dredaud fifty thousand less combatants in 
the ranks of our enemies, Bismarck had 
never been caught in a more desperate 
situation. It needed his cool audacity, ali 
the resources of his great mind, and the 
good-luck which has presided over his 
career, to get him out. of his difficulty. 
He knew how to conjure the danger, and 
to beat us on the ground where we ought 
to have triumphed, by simply keeping 
his presence of mind. He speculated on 
our passions, on our malcidresse, on the 
position of the Empire, on the chances 
of a revolution in France, lie did not 
ignore the causes which had led the Im- 
perial Ministry to adopt such a bitter 
tone with regard to tin- Spanish incident, 
lie knew that the Corps Ltgislatif was 
torn by parliamentary and dynastic in- 
trigues ; that the Extreme Right wanted 
at any price to upset the Cabinet, and 
that to carry out its purpose it had re- 
solved to give to the caudidateship of 
Prince Hohenzollern the proportions of 
a national question. He also knew of 
the hopes that were cherished at the 
Court of the French sovereign, where a 
large party flattered itself that a fortu- 
nate war would consolidate the dynasty, 
and would permit the repeal of the liberal 



1<S EURO Pi: IN STORM A.XD CALM. 

concessions made by the Emperor." Prussian army would be surprised before 

This, it must be remembered, is writ- it was concentrated, 

ten by a member of the Imperial Party, M. Emile Ollivier, in conversation 

who thus sets the seal upon the incorn- with a political friend, at the close of 

petence and folly of his political asso- the war, gave the following account of 

eiates. the manner in which hostilities were 

From his cornel- of observation, at decided upon. "I was sitting in my 

Varzin, Count von Bismarck followed office," he said, " occupied in drawing up 

all the phases of the crisis, and carefully the conciliatory declaration which we 

watched the pretext which should bring had agreed on in the Council of Minis- 

him upon the scene. "He wanted war," ters after the withdrawal of the Prince 

says M. Rothan, " but he did not like to von Hohenzollern from his project; and 

assume the responsibility of it. He so I intended to read this document to the 

carefully manoeuvred as to bestow the Chamber. I felt glad that we had known 

odium of the provocation upon us. While how to avoid a conflict, which had been 

he sent one envoy loEnis to tell the King so imminent, and was congratulating my- 

of the irritation of public opinion, and self on our success, when the Duke de 

the indignation of the military party in Gramont, very much agitated, came 

Prussia, because of the King's excessive into the room. lie held in his hand 

mildness towards Fiance, he was acting various documents, and among others the 

with great vigor at Vienna, Florence, telegraphic despatch that Count von 

and especially at St. Petersburg. He Bismarck had sent to all his agents, to 

corresi led constant ly with Von Moltke, inform him that the King, after hav- 

who was already preparing in his custom- ing been insulted by the French am- 

ar\ mystery and silence the mobilization bassador, had refused to receive him. 

of the German armies." 'This,' said the Duke, Ms a blow in the 

RI. Rothan points out a fact, which face of France given by Prussia. I 

all journalists, and other observers who shall resign my portfolio sooner than 

chanced to be either in Germany or in suffer such an outrage.'" — "I," said 

Frame at the outbreak "I' the war, did M. Ollivier, " was anxious for peace. I 

not fail to notice, and that is, that the worked ardently for its maintenance 

Germans were very much alarmed at the without cessation. I had, in harmony 

idea of a French invasion, expected it, with the Emperor, who used the whole 

ami made their greatest efforts with a weight of his authority, striven against 

view of having the first battles fought extreme measures, and here I found my- 

as far as possible from the Rhine, lint self constantly confronted with the 

they did not for an instant seem to hope necessity of war because of this grave 

that these first battles would be fought provocation." M. Ollivier is renowned 

only when the German army had got past for his delicate artifice, and the ingenious 

the French frontier. Before the rupture manner in which he endeavored in this 

of diplomatic relations there was a rumor conversation to cast back upon Prussia 

in northern ( lermaiiv that a French army the weight of the responsibility of ileelar- 

corps was marching upon Luxembourg, ing war will not escape attention. 

I that the French avant-garde had Shortly after this conversation with 

already entered the Palatinate. There the Duke de Gramont ami the repro- 

was a universally expressed fear that the duction of Bismarck's despatch in the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



1; 



papers, the French Council of Ministers 
was convoked in haste; in such haste, 
in fact, that two of the ministers did 
not gel their letters of convocation in 
time to be present. The Emperor 
opened the session by saying that he 
was obliged to recognize the fact that 
he was a constitutional sovereign. " It 
is my duty." he said, "to submit to 
your wisdom and patriotism, to decide 
what course we shall take in view of 
the incidents we have just heard ahout." 
On the mution of Marshal Le Boeuf 
it was decided that the reserve of 
the army should then be called Up. 
"•When they heard this in Germany," 
writes M. Rothan, " there was the live- 
liest apprehension all aloug the line. 
No one doubted (hat our preparations 
were all made for the instant invasion 
•■:' Southern Germany, for the immedi- 
ate occupation of the Grand Duchy of 
Baden, and it was expected that this 
would have a weighty effect. The 
Germans also thought that a French 
squadron would shortly appear off 
Copenhagen, with at least thirty thou- 
sand men read}" for landing." lie 
wrote at once a lone' despatch to the 
Duke de Gramont, giving the state 
of public opinion in Germany, and 
closed his letter with these significant 
words: "The newspapers say that 
Germany is now at last agreed; that 
the Germans arc all united from the 
sea to' the Alps. The King will leave 
for the army as the protector of the 
Federation of the North, but he will 
come hack as Emperor of Germany." 
The Duke de Gramont must have 
mused upon these words at frequent 
intervals a few months later. On the 
19th of July, at seven o'clock in the 
evening, the secretary of the Senate of 
Hamburg gave M. Rothan his pass- 
ports, and he at once left the territory 



of the Seven .States, to which he had 
been accredited. "• I left Germany," In- 
said, •■ in arms ; grave, solemn, full of 
hate for us, quite understanding that 
the supreme struggle was at hand, yet 
ready for all sacrifices. At Paris I 
found only tumultuous scenes, drunken 
hands of workmen giving themselves up 
to patriotic saturnalia. It was a. poignant 
contrast." He went at once to the Duke 
de Gramont ami asked for an inter- 
view. "I thought," he said, "that 
the government must be anxious to 
confer with its accredited agents arriv- 
ing from Germany, and to get at their 
latest impressions; but I was mistaken. 
The Emperor, worn down by sickness, 
and overwhelmed with cares, gave no 
audiences. I found in the waiting-rooms 
of the Tuileries only a few orderlies, 
lazy and spiritless ; they were playing 
at cards, while the sovereign, opposed 
to the war. given up to fatalism, 
yielded to the sombre presentiments 
which a few days afterwards were re- 
flected in his melancholy proclamation." 
When M. Rothan saw the Duke de 
Gramont lie found him very haughty 
and disposed to he cheerful, lie was 
loud in his praise of the French troops. 
He foresaw the complete crushing of 
Prussia, and drew a picture of her im- 
ploring peace after French victories. He 
said, " We shall have more allies than 
we shall know what to do with ; we 
must have our elbows free at the mo- 
ment of peace." But to another French 
diplomat he said : " You are wrong to 
suppose that we are anxious for the 
neutrality of the Southern German 
kingdoms. We do not want it. It 
would hinder our military operations. 
We must have the plains of the Palat- 
inate to develop our armies in." These 
ambassadors from the front, as they 
might be justly called, tried to point 



ISO EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

out to the members of the ministry to the cabinet of Marshal I." Boauf. 
the magnificent military preparations "What impression do you bring from 
of Germany ami the defects of tin- Germany '■" said the Marshal. '"Avery 
French organization. "Do yon not sad our. I fear that the Imperial gov- 
see," thev said, •■that the calculations ernment has been badly inspired, and 
of our stalls are nut based "ii anything that, in provoking Prussia, it has plaj'ed 
real, and that we shall be obliged t<> the game of Count von Bismarck." — " 1 
modify our plan of campaign? We shall do not ask you for your remarks on the 
have to divide our forces instead of government's policy. I am not a poli- 
contentrating them. We shall per- tician. Kindh tell me what you know 
haps have to take to the defensive in- about the German army," said the Mar- 
stead of developing our armies on tin- shal. " 1 merely want to know what 
plains of the Palatinate, as the Duke de you know about the mobilization and the 
Gramont wishes to do." formation of those armies." — " It seemed 
M.llothan records with some bitterness certain," answered M. Rothan, " two 
that after dancing attendance upon one days ago, when 1 left Hamburg, that on 
of the important personages for two the 25th of July all the infantry, and on 
days, when every hour was as precious the "27th all the cavalry reserve would 
as an ordinary week, the minister gave have joined their corps; and on the 2d 
him two minutes, and said: ••If you of August, at the latest, the whole army 
wish to continue the conversation — 1 would be concentrated. [ will add, that 
have no time to talk now — come to the the Minister of Prussia in Paris. Baron 
theatre this evening, and seethe Grande Werther, announced to the crowd, as I 
Duchesse. We can finish what you have went through the railway station in Ilan- 
to say there." M. Rothan, several days over, that he was in a position to say 
after war was declared, sick at heart at that German)' had much the advance, 
the spectacle of such negligence and and that she would surprise the French 
recklessness, betook himself to the Min- army in process of formation." 
istrv of War, where he found General On hearing this statement, made with 
Lebrun, and tried to tell him of the the resolute COlll'age of one who knew 
rapid advance of the German armies, what he was tnlkiug about and fully 
lie reminded the General that Prussia appreciated its gravity, Marshal Le 
had, since the campaign in 186(3 in Bo- Bumf's face turned quite pale, lie rose 
hernia, changed the principle of its orig- and stepped back a few steps, like one 
inal plan of mobilization, and would awakening from a dream. " It was," 
infallibly be ready for vigorous action in said M. Rothan, in describing the inter- 
nhie days after the declaration of war. view, " as if he felt that this unexpected 
General Lebrun was unwilling to admit news had decided his destiny." The next 
that the Germans could possibly move questions that he asked were falter- 
more rapidly than the French armies. ing, and denoted a profound mental dis- 
However, after observing the extreme turbance. Still he said he could believe 
agitation of M. Rothan, and the empha- no such rapid mobilization of the enemy's 
sis with which he dwelt upon the danger, forces. Me had declared, before an ns- 
be said : " We will go and see the Minis- semblage of his colleagues, that France 
ter of War. and you may tell him what had a clear advance of eight days over 
you think tit." So they were admitted Prussia, and it would seem as if he really 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



181 



believed that the Prussian army would 
not be able to enter into campaign be- 
fore twenty-one days, instead of nine, 
which M. Rothan set as the litest date, 
anil which was, in fact, all that was 
required. There were but few in the 
Imperial party who, like M. Rothan, 
refused to allow their pride to interfere 
with their reason. Ollivier, Lebrun, 
Le Bceuf, the Duke de Gramont, all 
persisted to the last in disbelieving in the 
constant- reports of the wonderful Prus- 
sian organization ; and the overweening 
confidence and blindness of the party are 
summed up in the almost pathetic out- 
burst of the Empress when she was told 
that Napoleon was a prisoner: " You 
lie ! he is dead." 

Marshal Le Boeuf was doomed to many 
deceptions at the outset of the war. 
It is told of him that on the evening 
after tin 1 battle of Saarbruek he sent for 
one of the citizens of Metz, who was 
somewhat renowned in the country for 
his topographical knowledge, ami asked 
him if he knew the lay of the lands where 
Rhenish Bavaria touched the French fron- 
tier. The citizen answered modestly that 
he did. •• Then I am going to confide to 
you a great secret," said Marshal Le 
Bceuf. " You will only have to keep it for 



two or three days, for by that time my 
operation will be completed. You must 
know. then, that to-morrow morning I 
am going to send the Frossard corps to 
take Sarre and Sarrelouis. Then I am 
going to send MacMahon and de Failly 
to fall upon Landau, and the junction 
of the two army corps will be operated 
in the space between Landau and Sarre- 
louis. I should like to know from you 
if there is a military route practicable 
between the two military towns." The 
citizen of Metz stared at the Marshal 
of France. " Monsieur le Marechal," 
he said, •• this junction is absolutely im- 
possible under the conditions which you 
indicate. Between Landau and Sarre- 
louis there is a regular little Switzerland, 
a mass of mountains, which a handful 
of men could defend against the most 
powerful army in the world." The Mar- 
shal bit his lips. " But there is a rail- 
way in that direction and a canal?" he 
said. •• There is. indeed, a railway ; but 
it passes through nine tunnels, and three 
pounds of powder could break up com- 
munication there in three hours." So 
Marshal Le Baeuf said nothing more 
about his plan ; and this was the man 
who at that time held in his hands the 
destinies of the French army. 



IS 2 EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER NINETEEN. 

The Race for the Rhine. — Von Moltke's Mysterious Journeys before the War. — Captain Samuel's Tele- 
gram. — The German Advance. — Scenes along the Historic Stream. — At Coblcntz. — AtMayeuce. 

'J'I ;l . Koail l'> Wiesbaden. — The ( Irown Prince at Spcyer. — In the Pfalz. — The Bavarian Troops. 

Their Appearance. — The Fright of the Inhabitants. 

IT is not wonderful thatthe French often enough been rehearsed by all the 

Minister of War turned pale, and directors of it, and every step of which 

stepped back as if he had been looking was prepared with most consummate 

into his own grave, when M. Rothan knowledge. 

told him, with the emphasis of convic- As a proof of the thoroughness with 

tion, that the Germans had thr advance which the German advance was arranged 

in thr mobilization of their tinny. The the following telegram, received at the 

curious and almost ferocious indisposition French Ministry of War, from Forbach, 

of the Fiench military authorities to on the 9th of April, 1868, is worth 

allow the correspondents of newspapers quoting: — 

to accompany their troops was prompted "To the Minister of War: Since 
by the tear of indiscreet exposure of Monday I have been following General 
their plan for falling upon the roads down von Moltke, who is visiting the frontier 
to the Rhine, and making all speed for the of France and studying the positions, 
historic stream in tune to check the Ger- On Monday I came up to him at May- 
man advance. Both nations were for a ence ; on Tuesday he stopped at Birken- 
few terrible, momentous days engaged feld, and took notes on the heights near 
in a race for the river, and for the roads the ruins of the old castle. He slept 
and mountain passes opening upon it. the same day tit Saiirbruck ; he there 
lint while poor equipments, lack- of took the defensive position of the rail- 
geographical knowledge, and the irre para- way station and the canal. Yesterday 
hie and criminal poverty of the quarter- he was at Sarrelouis, where he is still 
master's department, at every step re- staying. This morning, in spite of the 
larded and crippled the French, the frightful weather, he went. out. in a 
Germans may be said to have been carriage to visit the neighboring heights, 
moved, despite themselves, resistlessly I suppose, according to what I hear, 
forward to the defence of their own, and that he is going this evening or to-mor- 
llie invasion of the enemy's, country by row to Treves, and thai he will go down 
the operation of a machine which had the Moselle. Shall I continue lo follow 
been completely planned, thoroughly him up? Answer .at the telegraphic 
tried, and which was absolutely perfect, bureau of Forbach. 
In fact, the Germans, in executing their " Captain Samuel." 
tremendous forward march up the rugged Answer from the Ministry of War: 

spurs of the n ntains. and through the " Follow him." 

deep vales towards the French frontier, This was but one of the many visits 

were but performing a feat which had that the venerable Von Moltke made to 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



183 



the positions along the road into France ; 
and in 1869 he and his staff made a 
grand military promenade, without any 
concealment whatever, up to the very 
gates of the Alsatia which they were 
destined so speedily and so easily to 
conquer. 

General Ducrot appears to have been 
the only man on the French side who 
studied the enemy's country with the 
same care and minute vigilance mani- 
fested by the general staff of the Prus- 
sian army. Many a time had he been 
through the Grand Duchy of Baden and 
all the country between the Vosges and 
the Black Forest, disguised as a peas- 
ant, now on foot, now driving a country 
wagon, examining at his leisure the con- 
struction of the forts which he per- 
haps hoped one day to take General 
Ducrot was forewarned, but he could 
not make himself heard at the Imperial 
Court. 

The Countess de Pourtales, a brill- 
iant lady, descended from a French 
Protestant family which had to quit 
France on the revocation of tin 1 Edict of 
Nantes, and who was residing in Prussia 
shortly before the war. visited General 
Dncrot in 1868, and said to him, with the 
greatest energy and indignation : " Gen- 
eral, the Germans are deceiving us, and 
hope to surprise us unarmed. In 
public they talk of peace and of their 
desire to live on good terms witli us; 
but when they are among themselves 
they speak with a scornful air, and say, 
'Don't you see. that events are moving 
rapidly forward, and that nothing can 
hinder the de'noueiyn nt?' They laugh at 
our government, our army, our <i<irih 
Mobile, our ministers, the Emperor and 
the Empress, and pretend that before 
long Fiance will be a second Spain. 
Would you believe that the minister of 
the household of the King dared to tell 



me that before eighteen months had 
passed over our heads our Alsatia would 
be incorporated into Germany?" 

Genera] Ducrot was so much impressed 
with this lady's disclosures that he 
begged her to go to Compiegne and tell 
her story; but at the Ministry of War 
the General's revelations were looked 
upon coldly. It was too late for the 
Empire to profit by a warning. 

The mention of this Countess de 
Pourtales brings to mind a striking 
anecdote which illustrates the mutability 
of human fortune. Dining the summer 
of 1873 this lady went to Chiselhurst, in 
England, to visit the exiled Emperor and 
Empress. While she was conversing 
with them some one brought to the 
Emperor a photograph of a beautiful 
castle in Scotland, with hunting and fish- 
ing grounds, and everything desirable 
for a rural retreat attached to if. The 
Empress was delighted with the picture, 
and spoke of leasing the property for the 
Prince Imperial. •• What are you think- 
ing of, Eugenie?" said the Emperor; 
•• they want thirty thousand francs for the 
castle ! " — •• You are right," said the ex- 
Empress, "and I have not even a bed 
that I can call my own ! " 

When war was declared Marshal 
MacMahon was at Strasbourg, with what 
was known as the African army. Gen- 
era] Frossard was at Saint Avoid, with 
an army brought together hastily at the 
camp of Chalons. Marshal Bazaine 
was at Metz with the army of Lyons. 
General de Failly, who was a. veritable 
hero at the battle of Solferino, and held 
out with one brigade against three Aus- 
trian brigades, but who Utterly failed to 

accomplish anything in the combat of 
1870, was at the fortress of Bitche. 
Marshal Canrobert was organizing the 
Sixth corns at Chalons; and the brave 
General Douay the Seventh at Belfort. 



184 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

The Imperial Guard was at Boulay, under opposed to this rather meagre array 
General Bourbaki. of French military talent. M. Jules 
Passing rapidly in review these meu Claretie, in his History of the Revolution 
who had attained the dazzling positions of of 1870-71, sa_\s: "The adversaries of 
Marshals of France, and their colleagues, these generals, some of whom wen- 
it is difficult to find anv one except already troubled before they were in 
MaeMahon who was entitled to the name battle, and who marched to the combat 
of a competent soldier. MaeMahon, witli a cumbersome train of baggage- 
Duke of Magenta, was a true warrior, wagons, carriages, panniers of wine anil 
and the very first battle in which he fruit, like the generals <>!' the time of 
engaged, in 1870, showed that had he Louis XV., — their adversaries were 
had men enough, and men who wen' well those rude mathematicians, inflexible 
enough fed ami equipped, it would have calculators, patient, yet violent, war- 
gone hard with the Germans, magnifi- riors, like Count von Moltke, a cold 
centlv managed and superior in numbers strategist, with a geometer's glance, a 
as they were. He had been a soldier thinker rather than a soldier; Prince 
from his earliest youth. There was in Friedrich Karl, a kind of ferocious 
his character a bit of the old Irish dash Blucher, a furious sabre-swinger; old 
and energy of the MacMahons, who Steiumetz, the conqueror of Machod and 
accompanied .lames II. in exile, into Skalitz, the ancient enemy of Waterloo ; 
France, and it was manifest in all Manteuffel, who, in 18C5, had, crossing 
that he did during the campaign of the Eider and the Elbe, begun a cam- 
conquest in Algeria, and in the ( 'rimean paign against Hanover allied to Austria ; 
war, where he had a most dangerous Von Werder, harsh and sinister, the 
position in the grand and last attack future bombarder of Strasbourg. All 
on the Malakoff Tower -'Here I am, these men were strong in their hate and 
and here I remain," became famous in their jealousy, strong, above all, be- 
WOl'ds in France, and MaeMahon's fame cause of the military organization which 
extcaided far beyond the boundaries of his allowed them to launch their army corps 
own country. He was, at forty-four years forward, swift as thought ; to bring the 
of age, a division general who had seen fighters in railway carriages ou to the 
twenty-seven years of active service, battle-field, and by the same train to 
Had the Empire had a dozen men like transport the wounded from the battle- 
hini it might have turned the current Held to the hospital. They were strong, 
of fate for the moment. Bazaine lint did I say? — but because of our feeble- 
showed the already confessed weakness ness. They brought patience, coolness, 
of his character in his conduct at Metz. principle, against fever, anxiety, and 
General Frossard was chiefly noted lor disorder. Those who know that victory 
having been the Prince Imperial's pre- depends upon the quartermaster's de- 
ceptor. It was expected that he would parlment more than upon anything else, 
get the liii/mi of a marshal at the lir-t and upon those engineers of the Held of 
battle in which he participated ; but, as carnage who are called officers of the 
it chanced, that first battle was the dis- geueral staff, wen- overwhelmed with 
astrous defeat at Forbach. patriotic anguish when they measured, 
Let us see what an enlightened and not the coinage, — France is always sure 
patriotic Frenchman says of the Germans to have her heroes, — but the organ- 



EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 



185 



ization and the mechanism of the two 
armies." 

Never, should I live a hundred years, 
could I forget my impressions on ar- 
riving on the Rhine while the mobiliza- 
tion movement of the German armies 
was at its height. There can be noth- 
ing more impressive than a nation in 
arms. The aggregation of strong, reso- 
lute, handsomely equipped men is stu- 
pefying. One begins to think there 
are millions where he only sees thou- 
sands. The eye is but slowly trained 
to the appreciation of numbers. The 
uprising of the whole of Germany was 
an electric surprise to all Europe, and 
it is not astonishing that I was over- 
whelmed by what I saw. From the 
Belgian frontier to Cologne I was com- 
pelled to take a military train, all civil- 
ians being declared contraband, and 
being already looked upon with suspicion 
and contempt. A man out of uniform 
in Germany was a thing to smile at. or 
to lie pitiful over. If a stranger he was 
looked at askance. But no one troubled 
the observer during those few days of 
striving for the advantage. The soldiers 
were too busy with themselves, and the 
civilians were too much engaged in 
gazing at them, to worry foreigners. 
From Cologne I followed the wave of 
soldiery to Coblentz, where there was 
naturally a great concentration of troops, 
with a view to the guarding of the Mo- 
selle valley. Beer and wine played 
their accustomed role. Rigorous as is 
the German discipline on the march, 
and in the enemy's country, there was 
not much show of it among those thou- 
sands upon thousands of lusty young 
men, who were packed as neatly as figs 
in a box into the snug railway carriages. 
At Bonn, the old university town, there 
were at least five hundred men on the 
railway platform, each one with a bottle 



of beer under each arm, and such 
scrambling as ensued among the sol- 
diers I have rarely seen. 

At Remagcu a few hilarious old gen- 
tlemen came with packets of sweet 
cakes, and lieer-boiiles innumerable, and 
as the train moved away sang patri- 
otic songs in cracked voices. Here 
and there a man bade his wife and 

children g l-by, ami got quietly into 

the train, fitting into the place prepared 
for him in advance. The Reserves, 
coming in from the country-side, made 
the air ring with their songs, and cheer 
after cheer was heard from the wayside 
as the train went by. 

If the hungry French soldiers on the 
other side of the frontier could have 
seen the spectacle which 1 saw at. 
Coblentz they would have wept with 
vexation. The provision magazines were 
crammed, and long trains of forage 
wagons were coming in in the early morn- 
ing from the other side of the Rhine. The 
Prussian system for the transportation 
of supplies was put to a severe test here, 
and proved amply sufficient. As soon 
as the movement of . or concentration of , 
troops, on the frontier began, the farm- 
ers in all the country along the line of 
march were notified that they must 
transport a certain amount of supplies 
to a given point. Each fanner owns, 
according to his circumstances, one or 
two forage wagons, all liuilt very much 
alike, and subject at any moment to the 
government call. The burgomaster of a 
certain district receives notice from the 
army head-quarters that so many sup- 
plies must be at a certain point at a 
given time; and he gets them there, 
knowing full well that if he does not the 
consequences will lie extremely unpleas- 
ant. 

Of course the situation would have 
been greatly changed could a French 



LSI! 



EUROPE IS' STOini A.XD CALM. 



army of the old revolutionary or Repub- as if going to .1 wedding. The new- 
lican type have gone rolling and plunging comers from a village in the back 
down the Moselle valley, living on pluu- country usually made a round of the 
dor, and frightening the farmers and shops, to buy a few things lacking for 
burghers into instant submission. Hut their outfit. Every second man was 
the Germans wore pretty well assured smoking a lone- porcelain pipe, and 
that there was no danger of an extended every third officer certainly wore spec- 
raid in the direction of the Rhine, tacles. The fever of national patriot- 
Cologne, at the time of my visit, was ism found its vent in the singing of 
the head-quarters of the general com- such songs as Die Wacht am lihein. 
manding the Seventh, Eighth, and There was little cheering, a good ileal 
Eleventh corps of the Prussian army, of laughter, ami liberal beer. 
This command was one of the most From Mayence I crossed theriverand 
extensive in tin' country; the Seventh attempted to visit Wiesbaden, where a 
corps occupying the whole of West- few of the annual French visitors were 
phalia, including Dusseldorf ; the Eighth still lingering, half displeased, half 
keeping guard on both sides of the stunned by the tremendous military 
Rhine up to Coblentz, and thence to energy displayed around Ihem ; hut to 
Mavenee on the side nearest, France; get to Wiesbaden was out of my power. 
and the Eleventh having Hesse-Darm- I had fallen upon abnormal times, and 
stadt and Uesse-Cassel in its care. The my carriage was ordered into a ditch, 
Eighth corps, too, guarded the whole where 1 sal quite contentedly for three 
section of country between Coblentz and mortal hums, while a steady stream 
the French frontier and Luxembourg, of the finest cavalry 1 had ever seen 
extending its hues up to Treves, Satir- passed slowly by. Nearly every man 
bruck, Sarreburg, and Forbach. Count- of this grand body of troops was of 
ing the regiments on their war footing more than average height. The officers 
this command comprised about one hun- looked like a superior kind of school- 
dred and lil'tv thousand men. masters. They were harsh in command 
As I continued my difficult journey up and faultless in equipment. They 
the Rhine the spectacle of the military seemed as if they had come out of 
preparations liecame more and more a line engraving, so irreproachable 
impressive. The highways were filled were lhe\ ; white-gloved, decorated, no 
with long lines of troopers, with re- creases or wrinkles in their uniform, the 
splendent cuirasses, and iii gray and saddle appointments of their horses all 
gold, or in shining helmets and pretty perfect. It seemed almost too nice for 
blue or red uniforms. \t every railway soldiering. The whole land was swarming 
station dozens of young men. almost with troops. I went, hack to Mayence, 
hovs. were waiting until lliev could be and waited, before I could reach my 

transferred to the various points where hotel, while a boyish regi nt went by, 

they were incorporated in their regi- clink! clink! every foot striking the 

ments. Nearly all were clad simply and pavement in exactly the same way, 

carried little parcels, hurriedly made up, every knee thrown out at the same 

of provisions and clothing. Now and identical angle. Under the hot sun 

then a group walked in, singing a jolly down wenl a hoy. His comrades swung 

marching song, and laughing and joking their feet over him. and when the am- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



187 



bulance-wagon came he was picked up 
as automatically and mathematically as 
if it were done by a machine. Click ! 
clack ! On went the ambulance-wagon 
with the sick man, but the military 
movements had suffered no check. 

The components of the Prussian sol- 
dier's uniform are very simple, tasteful, 
and convenient. He might make a drink- 
ing-cup out of his helmet, and carve 
meat with his spike. He wears a bluish 
tunic with red colored cuffs and lappels, 
and a stout pair of dark-colored trousers ; 
carries a thick blanket, a canteen, a 
cooking-can. and a well-planned knap- 
sack in undressed calfskin. His fatigue- 
cap is flat, bordered with red. He has 
an undress uniform of coarse flax cloth, 
and a pair of white trousers. His over- 
coat is long, voluminous, and docs 
splendid service at night, when he biv- 
ouacs in the open air. for the German 
army has no tents. The pockets and 
folds of his clothing are so arranged 
that lie can carry in them numberless 
little things, and he fully improves the 
opportunities. 

When he bivouacs he plants his gun 
against his bayonet, places his side arms 
hanging over them, and caps them with his 
helmet. I have seen ten thousand of these 
helmets poised thus on a lone- plain, 
making one sheeny mass, which from a 
distance was dazzling as a golden sea. 

On a country road, not far from Ma\- 
eiicc, I saw a troop of Hussars. It was 
the most superb spectacle that I wit- 
nessed during the war. Each man sal 
erect and motionless as a statue, with 
one hand on the carbine laid upon his 
side pommel, and each beautiful horse 
was richly trapped. The cavalry has 
the greatest wealth of dress, and the 
rather gaudy splendor of some of the 
cavalry corps has a remembrance of the 
middle ages in it. 



The constant saluting of superiors by 
inferiors, the bawling of the orders to 
men, and the compactness of the pro- 
vision and baggage trains, all strike 
strangely upon the foreigner's sense. 
Here was an organization which had 
evidently been going on and on for years 
and years, until the men who composed 
it did things as if by inherited motion ; 
and yet this wonderful mechanism had 
been but little heard of until four years 
before, in 18G6. As to the saluting, it 
is incredibly formal. I sat, one evening, 
during this German advance, in front of 
the head-quarters of Prince Augustus, of 
Wurt.'inberg, at Kaiserslautern, in Rhen- 
ish Bavaria, watching the common sol- 
diers, who were carrying heavy sacks of 
bread or grain, and who were obliged to 
pass the sacred place where tic little 
potentate was sitting. Although the 
poor fellows in their dusty fatigue-jackets 

were bent almost double with their loads, 
each one managed so to arrange his bur- 
den that he could carry one band stiffly 
to his cap, until he had quite passed 
beyond the old prince. It was painful 
to see mature men stand sometimes for 
iivc minutes holding their hands to their 
hats, while a beardless boy, some aris- 
tocralic officer, was conversing with 
them. 

Although the Germans had sacrificed 
much to order they bad yet known 
how to combine elegance with it. The 
tield equipage of Prince Friedrich Karl, 
which I saw at Kaiserslautern, was 
one of the most perfect that can be 
imagined. There w:is :\. train of six; 
compact light carriages, stored with all 
the requisites for the Prince and his 
stall'; and. close behind it, afield tele- 
graph and field post service. The t 1 ■- 
graphic wagons are so arranged that a 
station can be established, and rapidly 
connected with an existing line within 



L88 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

reasonable distance. Couriers voile be- afternoon the answer came to disappoint 
hind the wagons in the order of march, and annoy us, couched in the follow- 
ready at a moment's notice to go from ing terms: " His Highness regrets that 
the wagons to the staff , and back again, an order this morning arrived from 
incessantly. As for the field post :ill Berlin that no correspondents should 
journalists who followed the movements be allowed to follow the field army, 
of the German armies learned to admire He is the more sorry for this as he 
and respect the managers of that match- had already given orders, since the 
less institution. reception of your letter, for the cx- 
At Carlsruhc, at Darmstadt, at Hei- animation of your credentials and such 
dclberg, everywhere in the picturesque facilities as could properly be given." 
and poetic region in which the English It was evident that neither German 
and American traveller loves to linger nor French wanted observers on the 
in the soft midsummer time, there frontier before the first battles; hut 
was the same haste of warlike prepara- we pushed on into the Pfalz, the rug- 
tion. I pushed on to Speyer, a rather ged mountain country of Rhenish Ba- 
ugly old town, notable chiefly for its varia, over which both French and 
historic cathedral, and there found the Prussian armies have moved in hostile 
Crown Prince of Prussia, who was the array in past times. All through thia 
object of inv search. Here were doz- country the peasants were half fright- 
ens of Bavarian regiments ; indeed, all ened to death. Although thousands 
Bavaria seemed to have taken rendez- upon thousands of soldiers were passim;' 
vous at Speyer. There was a general along the country roads, in nearly every 
alarm among ih • inhabitants. The antiquated dor/, filled with squeaking 
French were reported to have crossed geese and crazy peasants, we found 
the frontier, and the Bavarians had the bedding and crockery packed for 
been so hurried to nd up to this point instant transportation. From every 
that half-a-dozen poor fellows, in the house a Bavarian flag was hung out, 
square near the cathedral, were dying and in some of the country mansions 
of sunstroke, and hundreds were laid of the better sort little hospitals had 
up with sore feet a ml with aching heads, been prepared. At Neustadt we found 
The Bavarian Jaiiajers, clad in blue that the general occupying the town 
hunting suits, and with green plumes had given orders thai no civilians should 
in their helmets, were quite imposing, he admitted to the hotel ; hut we were 
Many of the poor boys had pallid laces, made exceptions by the landlord, who 
and the people of Speyer said that they said that he would take the risk. At 
would not light; but they did fight the railway station my English com- 
like demons at the battle of Woerth. panion was collared for looking at a 
The English gentleman who was my passing military train, — what right had 
companion in travel said they looked as he to look at it. indeed! — and he luckily 
if they would like to holt : hut none of escaped with a muttered apology. 
them holted. We sat late that uiglll ill front of the 

After a night at Speyer my companion little hotel, struck with astonishment at, 

and I sent polite letters to the down the continual succession of troops, com- 

Prince, asking for military passes into ing, coming, coming, in eudless procession 

the field of operations; and during the and seeminglv without fatigue, marching 



i:ri;i>ri: i.x storm axd calm. 



180 



ou to the fields beyond and establishing 
their bivouacs with but little noise and 
with no confusion. The surpri.se I felt 
then at the national strength displayed 
was, however, no greater than that which 
I felt <>n the day after the capitulation 
of the forts of Paris, when I saw come 
marching into Versailles, click ! clack ! 
with the knees thrown nut at the proper 
angle, a regiment of scaly-looking boyish 
troops, of fresh troops sent up from the 
depths of Germany, to fall in, if neces- 
sary, as readily and willingly as the first 
actives had fallen in. It may with truth 
be said that, from the beginning of the 
campaign to the end, Germany had fresh 
troops constantly arriving in France, 
and when the war was completely ended 
still had a few left to draw upon. The 
confederation of the North alone was 
ready at the beginning of the war to put 
on foot three hundred and eighty bat- 
talions of infantry, three hundred squad- 
rons of cavalry, two hundred batteries of 
artillery, being one thousand two hundred 
pieces, thirteen battalions of engineers, 
thirteen train battalions, — in all. live 
hundred and fifty thousand active men ; in 
addition to which it had a reserve of one 
hundred and eighty thousand men. and a 
solid landtvehr numbering more than two 



hundred thousand. The Bavarian army 
furnished one hundred and ten thousand 
soldiers ; the Wurtemberg army, thirty- 
six thousand ; and the army of Baden, 
about the same number. All these, in 
the last days of July, when hostilities 
were just to commence, were grouped 
into three armies: the first, under the 
command of old General Steinmetz ; the 
second commanded by Prince Friedrich 
Karl : and the third by the Crown Prince 
of Prussia. Under General Steinmetz, 
and, later, under Von Manteuffel, were 
tin' First, Eighth, and Seventh corps, 
the Seventh commanded by the famous 
Lieutenant-Geueral von Goeben ; under 
Prince Friedrich Karl were the Second, 
Third, Ninth, Tenth, Fourth, and Twelfth 
corps, the latter the Saxons, commanded 
by the Prince of Saxony, and the famous 
Guard corps commanded by the Prince 
of Wurtemberg; and in the third army, 
which fought at Weissenburg, at YVoerth, 
at Sedan, and was so conspicuous in 
front of Paris during the siege, were the 
Fourth. Fifth, Sixth. Thirteenth, and 
Fourteenth corps. Three more formi- 
dable, better equipped, or more powerful 
armies never fell upon the frontiers of 
any unhappy country. 



190 EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER TWENTY. 

The Spectacle in the Palatinate. — A Visit, to Landau. — The Saxon Troops on the March. — A N'i^'ht 
Drive. — Echoes from Weissenburg. — Through the Glades to Kaiscrslautcrn. — Tin' Narrative of 
Strange Adventures which there befell us. -A Military Prison. — Challenging a Denunciator. — 
Arrested a Second Time. 

f~l"MIIS concentration of troops in the eighty-two days of siege; but the fol- 

JL Palatinate was so remarkable a spec- lowing year it returned once more into 

tacle that we were willing to run greater the hands of the French, yet ie again 

risks than we were likely to be subjected to be taken by the Imperials in 1701. 

to, for the purpose of witnessing it in Down swept the French upon it in 1713, 

:ill its aspects. II was noised abroad in occupying it u whole century, to give it 

the arinv, all too soon for our purposes, tip to Bavaria after the treaties of 1815. 

that newspaper correspondents, or " writ- It was from Landau that one of his 

ers," as the Prussians scornfully called Generals wrote to Louis XIV. : "Sire, 

them, were not. admitted among the we have taken more flags ami standards 

2 -ts of the moving camps; and where- than Your Majesty lias lost of soldiers." 

ever wo went, therefore, we were eyed < >n the way to Landau, in the broiling 

and scowled at as presumable members sun. we had an opportunity to observe 

of some other profession. the conduct on the march of the young 

We wen' not slow to discover that the Saxon troops, who did not appear to 

inhabitants of the Palatinate were by no great advantage at the outset of the 

means in sympathy with the Prussians, campaign, but who behaved wonderfully 

On the contrary they seemed to cherish well when in front of Paris, and did 

for them an especial dislike, criticised plenty of rough work. Evidently tin' 

them severely, and laughed at their pom- Saxon military shoemakers were at fault, 

pons air, their stiff uniforms, and their for the soldiers were seated by hundreds 

somewhat objectionable habit of combing in the ditches, nursing their feel, and 

their hair and whiskers while they sat at doubtless cursing Ihe proyocalive French 

meals. most heartily. At the gates of Landau 

From Niiisti.lt we went to Landau, \\c met a long train of ambulance-wag- 

the famous fortress-town, which the Em- ons, carrying to a hastily improvised 

peror Rudolph of Hapsburg made a free camp two or three score of suustruck 

Imperial city in the thirteenth century, youths. The poor fellows, thrown into 

and which was taken by assault and the wagons with their heavy knapsacks 

pillaged seven times during the Thirty ami blankets still .strapped upon them, 

Years' war. Landau was taken posses- presented a pitiable appearance. With- 

sion of by Louis XIV. at the same time in the town everything indicated that 

that lie placed his hand upon Alsatia ; tin' mixed forces who were there assem- 

and he had it magnificently fortified by bled were on the alert, as was eminently 

Vauban. Back came the Imperial armies proper in the immediate vicinity of the 

ami wrested it from Louis XIV.. after enemy. Regiments came and regiments 



EUROPE l.X STORM AX1> CALM. 



1!)1 



went; cavalry clattered back and forth; 
reviews were held : the sick were be- 
stowed in proper houses. The general 
officers were quite magnificent at the 
table d'hdte of the principal hotel, dining 
and wining freely, yet with a certain 
preoccupied air peculiar to soldiers when 
action is impending. 

We left Landau late at night, and 
just in time to escape the overhauling 
of an inquisitive officer of the day. Our 
tea inster lost his way while we were 
making for Germersheim, and, taking 
a long ili'ionr, left us in doubt as to 
whether we were in France or Germany, 
but. with the pleasant consciousness that, 
we were not far from the scene of 
battle. Night came on, so quiet that as 
we drove over the plains we could hear 
the cows pulling the short grass in the 
fields. Now and then we heard the 
tramp of hundreds of feet, and saw long 
Mack shadows, denoting the passage of 
a regiment. At last we cam" to the 
bigb road, and by and by to Germers- 
heim, where we were saluted by a vig- 
orous invitation to halt, and a rather 
scornful intimation to " clear out" when 
we requested admission; the sentinel 
merely deigning to remark that it 
was Festwng (a fortification), and that 
we could not, enter after hours. So we 
betook ourselves to the highway once 
more, passing through many antiquated 
dorfs, where the peasants were in a high 
state of excitement, and at the entrance 
of each of which little groups of cavalry- 
men sat. motionless on their horses, 
wrapped in their long cloaks, not. even 
looking at us as we passed. After va- 
rious other adventures, such as straying 
into the old Rhine bed, and narrowly 
escaping wreck in the darkness and in 
the sandy, water-deserted reaches, we 
decided that it would be useless to 
return to Landau or to Speyer that 



night, and coming, towards dawn, to a 
little group of houses, we rested there, 
hoping for better hick when the sun 
should rise. 

When morning came we were startled 
by certain dull sounds, which came from 
the direction of France, and were some- 
what amused at the perturbation with 
which the German villagers declared that 
these sounds were the echoes of the mi- 
trailleuses, and that the French would 
soon be upon us. There was, however, 
no falling back on the part of the Ger- 
man troops; and, as we heard nothing 
further, we concluded that our ears had 
been deceived, and. after an hour of ex- 
ploration in thi' direction of France, we 
returned to Germersheim. Hence my 
English friend counselled an immediate 
journey to Kaiserslautern, from which 
point, one might sec something of the 
principal advance in that direction. 

We had indeed heard the echoes of a 
battle, anil of one which, though of no 
great importance or duration, opened 
the door of Alsatia for Germany. The 
army of the Crown Prince, with the Fifth 
corps, thirty-two thousand strong; the 
Eleventh with the same number; the 
First Bavarian corps, of thirty-eight thou- 
sand men. and the Second with thirty- 
two thousand, and the Bavarians and 
Wtirtembergers more than forty thousand 
in number, with two divisions of cavalry 
seven thousand strong, — all these were 
thrown forward upon or near a point. 
which was defended by a French di- 
vision, only nine thousand in number. 
The French are right when they say that 
General Douayand his division at Weis- 

senburg fought one against live, for at 

least eighty thousand Germans took part 
in the brief struggle on the morning of 
the 1th of August, which resulted in the 
retreat of the French and the occupation 
of Weissenburg. Had the French been 



1!I2 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

strong and quick enough to have :it their work, so that Weissenburg is 

pushed into Germany at this point, half- qualified as a costly victory even by the 

a-dozen days before the mobilization of Germans. The French resistance, al- 

the German army was complete, how though the troops were totally unpre- 

different the results might have been ! pared for such an overwhelming attack. 

But all the world knows the history of was very creditable, and has always been 
the surprise, for it axis a genuine sur- praised by the enemy, [t was better for 
prise, at Weissenburg. The French sol- General Douay that lie should have been 
diers, in describing the battle, asserted killed, for, generous and true-hearted as 
that General Douay had to improvise he was. he would never have forgiven 
his plan of action under the enemy's himself for being the unwitting instru- 
fire. A gallant French officer, M. Uu- ment for the admission of the Germans 
niv. who was engaged in the action, into the province which they had deter- 
said : ' We were halted for an instant mined to take from their traditional foe. 
to reform lines, while advancing to the We made the best of our way over 
heights from which the German fire had the encumbered roads, now liter- 
come. This halt of ours was like a ally swarming with troops, up through 
signal for the enemy, who had been for the picturesque mountain passes to 
some time silent and invisible. A hor- Kaiserslautern, near which pretty little 
rible fusillade broke out all along our town Barbarossa is supposed to be still 
line of battle. The vineyards were liter- lying in his enchanted sleep. Here a 
allv tilled with sharp-shooters, ambus- fellow American journalist and myself 
caded there since the morning, or excited the suspicions of a patriotic in- 
perhaps the evening before. They tired habitant of the town, who at once spread 
while kneeling down hidden among the the report that there were " French spies" 
leaves, and. if 1 am not mistaken, shel- taking notes among the troops, and 
tered behind little hillocks of earth, towards evening, after our English friend 
which they had had time to throw up. had departed on a little reconuoitering 
Bv their position they had a great ad- expedition towards Homburg on the 
vantage over us, as we were on the open frontier, we were surrounded by six 
road." stalwart soldiers, accompanied by an 

The naivete of this recital is almost officer, who. without any unnecessary 

pathetic. It indicates a surprise, so politeness, informed us that we were 

great as almost t<> deprive this officer, arrested. We could not deny the soft 

who was doubtless brave enough, of impeachment, and were marched off 

military sense. He seems to imply that through the town, escorted by a jingling 

it was disloyal and improper on the part procession of small boys and greasy 

of the (banians to take advantage of Jews, to a huge barrack building, where 

their position, or to fortify themselves we were initiated info the delights of a 

in it. The Crown Prince had rattled military prison. While we \\rvc not 

down from Speyer to Landau in a post- frightened we were deeply annoyed, 

chaise, and thence on horseback to the because we had wished to push on that 

outposts, to be present at this action, night to the frontier. Our companion 

He directed the storming of the castle in misfortune was a gigantic personage 

of Schafenburg bv the King's Grena- connected with the army, who was labor- 

diers, who were very badly cut up while ing under a temporary hallucination, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



193 



superinduced 1)3' copious libations, and 
who insisted, at intervals throughout 
the night, in threatening to exterminate 
us with his jack-boots, which he could 
certainly have done if he had persisted 
in attempting it. About midnight, our 
situation becoming intolerable, we clat- 
tered furiously upon the door, and 
made most vigorous protests, which 
brought to us a superior officer, superbly 
dressed, who took our passports and 
protests, and left us with the cool 
remark, that, whether we were right or 
wrong, there we must bide the night. 
We did bide there with as much patience 
as we could command, and were not a 
little startled when the door was opened 
in the morning to find six men and a 
sergeant waiting to escort us, whither 
we knew not. We were ordered to '• fall 
in," and were marched, in the rain, 
which was coming down in torrents, 
through some back streets of the town, 
our escort proceeding with such solem- 
nity that we began to fancy that we 
might be going to our own execution. 
My companion vouchsafed the remark 
that they "certainly could no! shoot 
us." " But then," he added, "if they 
wish to, they have guns enough ; " 
and with this poor attempt at wit we 
were both satisfied for the moment. 

When we were quite drenched the 
minions of an effete despotism deposited 
us in the hall of a large and dingy 
structure, and retired without bidding us 
good-morning, but not without seeing 
that we were properly locked in. As 
this hall was not especially inviting of 
aspect, we made bold to open a side 
door, and found ourselves in a comfort- 
ably warmed room, around three sides 
of which ran shelves filled with docu- 
ments, and we concluded that we were 
in the office of some functionary. Seated 
in a corner was a portly man, with a sin- 



gularly white face, and something so sad, 
yet proud, in his demeanor that we could 
not help observing him carefully. We 
learned during the day that he had 
passed fifteen years in a fortress, wear- 
ing a ball and chain attached to one of 
his legs, because he had been too free 
with his pen iii his criticism of the gov- 
ernment under which he lived ! At 
present he was one of the large Liberal 
party in Kaiserslautern, men who hated, 
and who did all they could to oppose, the 
military policy and the crushing despot- 
ism which Prussia had imposed upon the 
whole nation. 

After what seemed to us an inter- 
minable delay this personage came out 
of his corner, and informed us in the 
German tongue that some one would 
come presently to examine us; then fol- 
lowed another delay, which appeared like 
weeks, but it was only half an hour. 
An amiable gentleman, with a fiery com- 
plexion, arrived with a somewhat be- 
wildered air, as if he had been suddenly 
awakened from his slumbers, and taking a 
chair, and drawing it up to the table in 
front of which we had ventured to seat 
ourselves, he laid before him a package, 
upon which he laid both his fat hands. 
Then he took a long look at us, after 
which he burst into a loud laugh, and 
said in English : " Veil, boys, I think 
you were in a scrape." 

As there was no disposition on our 
part to deny this, and finding that he 
spoke his broken English in a manner 
which indicated a period of sojourn in 
America, we ventured to interrogate him, 
and found that he had, like many other 
Germans, returned to the Palatinate, 
after a long and prosperous stay in the 
United States, and that he was one of 
the members of the city council in 
Kaiserslautern The military authori- 
ties, despairing of making spies out 



L94 



EUROPE J.V STORM AM) CALM. 



of us, had handed us over to the 
town, and had given into our new 
friend's hands all the papers which had 
been found upon us. These papers 
were now returned to us with a cour- 
teous apology from the representative 
cit' the city's dignity and with the remark 
that the burgomaster would shortly call 
upon us to express his regrets at the 
unfortunate occurrence. 

It was at the '• White Swan " Inn that 
we had been arrested, just as we 
were sitting down to dinner, and 1 was 
somewhat amused at the vehemence 
with which our city councillor insisted 
upon our going to the •• White Swan" 
with him, and bestowing upon the land- 
lord a few specimens of Anglo-Saxon 
invective. We declined to do this, and 
expressed a preference for bed. So we 
adjourned to the Prince Karl Hotel, where 
we were warmly received, ami sent to 
the " White Swan " for our personal be- 
longings. We had laid quietly down to 
rest when there came a loud knock at 
the bedroom door, and in walked a 
policeman. This we considered too much 
of a trial after the adventures of the 
night, but this functionary insisted upon 
our dressing and accompanying him. 
What was our amusement and amaze- 
ment when we discovered that the land- 
lord of the "White Swan " had summoned 
us before a magistrate, there to listen to 
his affidavit that he had had nothing to 
do with our arrest. Back we went to 
the hotel, and once more to bed ; and at 
one o'clock, the hour when dinner is 
served in most German hotels, we went 
down to the long dining-room, in which 
perhaps one hundred officers were smok- 
ing and drinking ; and there we encoun- 
tered our friend, the city councillor, and 
were invited to break bread with him. 

We had not been long in the room 
when we discovered that at its oppo- 



site end was a. party of gentlemen who 
were in no wise in sympathy with our 
city councillor, and who were certainly 
making merry at our expense. We in- 
quired the reason of this, and our ( lerman 
supporter then told us that, there were 
two parties in Kaiserslautern, bitterly 
hostile each to the other. Prominent in 
one of these parties was a certain Chris- 
tian Sind, who had a special dislike for 
all Americans, ami for all the Germans 
who had returned from America bring- 
ing with them their criticisms upon the 
old and slow methods of doing business, 
and also bringing with them larger 
fortunes than Herr Sind and his col- 
leagues had been able to get together at- 
home. Herr Sind, in his wanderings 
through the town, had observed our 
movements, and had reported them as 
suspicious to the military authorities; 
hence our arrest. These facts had come 
out during the morning while we were 
sleeping off the memory of the cavalry- 
man and his annihilating jack-boots, and 
our arrest was now to be made matter 
for a furious discussion between the 
contending parties in the city council. 
My companion, who had served through 
our civil war, was a bit of a wag, and 
fancied that from Herr Siud's appearance 
he might not relish the notion of a duel ; 
so he sent a card to that suspicious gen- 
tleman, with an intimation that, if the 
report concerning Herr Sind's conduct 
were true, he had not behaved in a gen- 
tlemanly fashion, and hoped lie would 
give him immediate satisfaction. 

Heir Sind arose ami came to our table 
in a state of anger which it would be 
difficult to describe. To my friend ho 
said, in broken English, that he would 
not tight with a boy ; whereupon, in y 
friend, with an impetuous obstinacy 
born of the occasion, endeavored to 
stimulate the courage of Herr Sind with 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



195 



one or two of those epithets which are 
rarely received calmly. But the cham- 
pion of the Conservative party in Kais- 
erslautern was not warlike. He bel- 
lowed defiance, but went no further. 
After a few war-dances about our table 
he retreated to his own, and there con- 
sumed the remains of his dinner in 
moody silence. The German officers, 
who had got wind of the affair, were de- 
lighted at my friend's conduct, and 
stood up in line, shouting innumerable 
" Hochs," holding out their glasses to 
him as a sign of approval of his conduct. 
Our friend of the fiery complexion was 
now reinforced by a number of his col- 
leagues, and we completed our dinner 
with the feeling of having thoroughly 
triumphed over our enemies. 

But this was not all. During the 
course of the afternoon we received an 
immense document from the city hall, 
signed by the burgomaster himself, and 
announcing that we were personally 
known to the city government of the 
good burgh of Kaiser slautern ; that our 
papers had been inspected ; and that we 
were entitled to protection, military and 



civil, wherever we might travel in Ger- 
man lines, in war or peace. Meantime 
we received a letter from our English 
friend, informing us that he had been 
safely bestowed in a small guard-house 
at the next town beyond Kaiserslautern, 
Ilerr Sind's denunciation having included 
him, ami having led the military authori- 
ties to believe that they had bagged a, 
trio of dangerous spies. 

The recommendation from the city 
government of Kaiserslautern did not 
hinder us from being arrested again, at 
a small town near by a day or two after- 
wards. 

Some years later I was conversing 
with the editor of a German paper in 
St. Louis about the Franco-German war, 
and happened to mention the fact of 
this second arrest. 

" Ah ! " he said, " that could not have 
happened in the section of Germany in 
which I was born." 

"Where were you born?" I ventured 
to inquire. 

"In Alzey." 

Now it was in Alzey that our second 
arrest occurred. 



lit!. 



EUROPE J.X STOBM l\/> CALM. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE. 



Germersheim. — The Rhine Hud. — Across the Frontier. — Weissenburg. — On t<» Woerth.- -The Disaster to 
the French. — The German Descent of the Hill under Fire. — ' Charge of Gen. Bonnemain's Cuirassiers. 

— The Valley of Hell. - - MaeMahon's 1 lefeat. — The Horrorsof the Retreat. — Frossard's Negligence. 

— Bazaine's Jealousy. 



FROM Alzey we thought it worth our 
while to return to Landau and 
Germersheim, and so to get up to the 
line of the Crown Prince's operations. 
Germersheim stands on the Rhine, at a 
point nearly opposite an important for- 
tress in Baden. The Rhine, which for- 
merly persisted in performing the letter S 
twice between Speyer ami Germersheim, 
has now been considerably straightened, 
and the old bed of the river adds to the 
strength of the fortress by making it 
difficult to get within attacking distance. 
Immense sums of money had been spent 
on the fortifications of Germersheim 
within the thirty years preceding the 
war. The country round about is very 
beautiful. The little Queieh river ram- 
bles and rushes through green fields and 
along the edges of pretty forests. Di- 
rectly to the south of Germersheim lies 
Sonderheim, and, further below, llonlt. 
two fortified towns of some importance. 
The Germans had anticipated that the 
French might attack from Weissenburg, 

using the railway bet ween (ierineisheiin 
and Landau to hasten the transportation 
of troops, and we found this load 
unaided at every mile with such precau- 
tions as only the German armies can 
take. Landau and Germersheim are the 
offsets to Lautcrburg and Weissenburg 
on the southern French frontier to Rhen- 
ish Bavaria. 

From Germersheim to tin' frontier we 
hail an uneventful journey. We went 



over the same' road which we had taken 
on the night of our departure from 
Landau. The troops were pouring along 
the highways silently, anil with that air 
of gravity which always settles down 
upon a marching army when it knows 
that an encounter is just ahead of it. 
The country was rough, broken by small, 
but difficult, hills, and on either side of 
the post road, by which we crossed into 
France, there were long rows of noble 
trees. The German outposts were scat- 
tered along the frontier at every few 
rods, and we heard wonderful stories 
about sharp-shooting which we took 
with the necessary grain of salt. At 
Weissenburg we found proclamations, 
posted on all the principal buildings, 
announcing that no inhabitant would be 
disturbed unless interfering with the 
progressof military operations ; in which 
case he would be shot. The French 
peasantry seemed rather servile towards 
the invaders, and many men professed 
loudly that they were not at all in 
favor of the war. They rebelled in 
some instances against the unwelcome 
duty of burying the dead, which the in- 
vading Germans forced upon them ; but 
they were compelled to do the work. 
There were but few instances of mur- 
ders in cold blood in Weissenburg after 
the tight. One old man brained a Hus- 
sar, who was entering his house, and we 
were told that he would probably be 
shot for it, unless it could be proven 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



11)7 



that the soldier had done him some 
harm. 

No sooner had the Crown Prince won 
his extraordinary success at Weissenburg 
than lie telegraphed to Berlin: "Stop 
everything else, and send me provisions. 
Do not delay a moment." Pausing on 
the confines of the enemy's country, and 
glancing over its impoverished villages 
and bare fields, he saw that he must 
prepare to take with him all his means 
of sustenance. There was not even a 
potato to be found in the fields, and the 
peasants of Weissenburg and twenty 
miles around were at their wits' end to 
procure provisions for themselves. Had 
there been a certainty of plenty to eat 
for some days the impatient Prince 
would have engaged the French a second 
time before the 6th; but he was com- 
pelled to wait, and is said to have had 
grave doubts as to the results of this 
delay. lie threw himself upon the task 
with unparalleled ardor, and was on foot 
in the town one whole night, comforting 
the wounded, and guarding by his pres- 
ence the inhabitants against wrong. 

Having received the news of the Saar- 
bruck operations, of which we knew 
nothing at the time of our visit, and, 
doubtless, being aware of the determina- 
tion of Prince Friederich Karl to give 
battle in that vicinity, he pushed forward 
his men on the steps of the living enemy. 
Ou the evening of the 5th of August 
he found that MacMahon's forces were 
not far off, but were said to lie in a dis- 
organized condition, the flight of the di- 
vision which had been vanquished at 
Weissenburg having been communicated 
to the whole line. He therefore en- 
deavored to crown the success of the 
invasion by a crushing blow, which 
would enable him to proceed to Metz 
and Nancy, driving MacMahon before 
him, and destroying all his hopes of 



communication with the other army 
corps, which were just then, although 
the Crown Prince of course did not know 
it. about to suffer a defeat. But he was 
now in the midst of a broken and rough 
country, where forests covered the an- 
cient hills from the sunlight, and his 
advance was difficult, slow, and full of 
suspicion. He went forward, feeling 
that he was not thoroughly supplied, and 
dreading to go far till supplies could 

come Up, 

On the morning of the Oth his 
advance was approaching Tiefenbach. 
Very early on thai morning the sound 
of rifle-shots was heard, and before the 
sun was warm in the sky the Crown 
Prince, with a few staff officers, rode 
hurriedly to the extreme front, and 
an engagement was at once begun. 
Marshal MacMahon had marched on the 
4th of August upon Haguenau. The 
Emperor had placed at his disposition 
the Fifth corps of General De Failly, 
and if that. General had been diligent on 
the disastrous day of the 6th the Mar- 
shal might, perhaps, have held out 
better than he did against the Germans. 
MacMahon had intended to join his 
forces with those of General de Failly, 
and to attack the right Hank of the 
Germans on the 7th; but he was one 
day too late in his plans. 

The Germans found that Marshal 
MacMahon had taken up his position 
between Langensulzbach on the north 
and Morsbronn on the south, a field full 
of ravines and patches of wood, and cut 
up here and there into hop-fields. The 
First division, commanded by General 
Ducrot, was at Froshweiler ; the Third, 
between Froshweiler and Elsasshausen ; 
the Fourth, facing the table-land of Guns- 
tett, with its right on Morsbronn. A 
division of the Seventh, placed, like the 
Fifth, at MacMahon's disposition (it had 



198 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



arrived in the morning), was put in the 
second line with the Douay division, 
which had just been in the Wcissenburg 
light. MacMahon had now under his 
command but forty-six thousand availa- 
ble men with which to hold his position 
against one hundred and sixty thousand 
( rcrmans. The Second Bavarian corps 
began an attack on the Ducrof division; 
at the same time the Fifth Prussian 
corps attacked the Raoult division in the 

centre. 

At seven o'clock in the morning, along 
a range of hills beyond Woerth, the 
batteries were playing their liveliest. 
The little village of Froshweiler, two 
miles from Weissenburg, was crammed 
with French tioops. waiting to go into 
action. There was no excitement on 
the part of tin' German troops, who 
were jogging along the high-road, when 
they heard the advance body open lire. 
Everything was conducted in the most 
orderly and tranquil manner. 

The picturesque town of Woerth 
stands in the basin formed by a circu- 
lar range of hills, steep, wooded in 
patches, and with vineyards scattered 
here and there. Beyond the town, on 
the north-west, side, and in the direction 
of Froshweiler. is an old castle. A 
little brook, escaped from the hidden 
bases of the hills, wanders through 
Woerth to lose itself speedily in the 
thickets. The French lines, as massed 
upon the hills opposite the Germans, 
were so extended as to form a species 
of semicircle, and from these lines there 
came a steady lire of shells, under which 
the Eleventh Prussian corps of Hessian 
and Nassau troops began, at perhaps 
nine o'clock, to descend the hill, anil 

to march steadily and unwaveringly, 
although they seemed marching to cer- 
tain death. The tremendous clamor of 
the shells, and the occasional div whir 



of the solitary mitrailleuse, which was in 
position, made these veterans groan, but 
could not turn them back. The slopes 
were strewn with wounded, and now 
and then a stout man would jump into 
the air and fall, dismembered and bleed- 
ing. The cries of the wounded, at one 
or two points in this march down the 
hill, were so terrible that the French 
thought a genera] retreat had begun, and 
the artilleurs stopped firing to gaze, as- 
tonished. But still the relentless march 
went on. 

Part of the fifth corps, composed 
entirely of Prussians from Posen, the 
Seventh. Fifty-eighth and Fifty-ninth 
regiments, many of the men with the 
Kceniggratz medal on their breasts, were 
now also engaged in this solemn prome- 
nade towards death and victory : and the 
columns began to blacken the hill-side as 
far as the eye could see, back to the 
sombre line of wood. Now and then 
through the foliage were seen the bright 
helmets of the Prussians. In some 
places the piles of dead, left by advanc- 
ing regiments, obstructed the progress of 
those coming on behind; and a long, 
patient halt under lire was made by men 
who expected every moment to he num- 
bered among the slain. 

Meantime the outer battle line of the 
French, the Turcos, the Zouaves, and 
the Liners, equally distributed, had ad- 
vanced partially down the opposite hill, 
ami were firing rapidly, but with lack of 
precision, at the resistless yet unresisting 
and on-coming men. The French soldier 
usually goes heavily loaded with ammu- 
nition, carrying twice the number of 
rounds allowed in other armies ; and with 
the chasxepot in his hands, and with his 
marvellous celerity of tiring, he seemed 
on this day almost like a demon vomiting 
lire and smoke. One echo, one roll and 
crash, followed another so quickly that 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



1W) 



the interval between was hardly percep- 
tible. 

The French sometimes, since the battle 
was ended at or very near Froshweiler, 
to which they were obliged to retire, give 
the name of that town to it. The Prus- 
sians called it the victory of Woerth, 
and as such it will probably be known 
in history. The struggle extended over 
a long tract of ground, and its shucks 
were felt in seven or eight villages. 
MaeMahon had certainly distributed his 
scanty forces with admirable skill, with 
a view to covering the possible advance 
of the enemy from Strasbourg to Bitche. 
lie had suffered great anxiety because 
of his poverty of forces before he had 
discovered the overwhelming numbers of 
the enemy. He was obliged to leave 
the town of Morsbronn, which after- 
wards became one of the most important 
points in the battle, unoccupied, because 
he had not troops enough. At this place 
occurred the celebrated charge of the 
cuirassiers of General Bonnemain, who 
were thrust forward by Marshal Mae- 
Mahon in a desperate endeavor to hurl 
back the dark masses of Germans who 
seemed to spring out of the very hill-side. 
This magnificent division of cavalry, 
which has been amply celebrated in song 
and story for the last decade in France, 
went crashing and clattering into the 
vineyards, where the men and horses were 
slaughtered by dozens. These men 
of the Eighth and Ninth Cuirassiers were 
among the very best troops in the French 
army ; they were fit antagonists for the 
colossal German troops; and, had they 
been properly matched against an even 
number of the enemy, would have held 
their own superbly. They had to go 
through the village of Morsbronn to de- 
scend into the valley, there form anew, 
and charge. As they went through the 
village dozens of them were dropped 



from the saddles by Germans ambus- 
caded ill the houses and in the alleys ; 
from the windows revolvers were fired 
upon them, and once outside of Mors- 
bronn the batteries filled the valley with 
the very fires of hell. 

In the midst of this terrific hail of 
shell they managed to get into line ; 
but when they charged they were deci- 
mated, stricken as if by lightning, and 
the movement which they had hoped to 
accomplish was rendered completely im- 
possible. All along the French line 
from Elsasshausen, at which the right of 
the Second brigade of the Third division 
was supported, to where the broken line 
of the Fourth division faltered from the 
right of the Third, — to Morsbronn, 
there was the most frightful slaughter. 
Marshal MaeMahon, as I have since 
been told by French soldiers, had been 
in the saddle the greater part of the 
previous night, and had hardly taken 
food since he had heard the news of the 
Weissenburg defeat. 

It was to turn the general position of 
the French, and make them change their 
front, that the terrible advance of the 
Germans into this valley of death be- 
tween the hills bristling with artillery 
was made. When the Germans had 
reached the bottom of the hill they were 
naturally in full possession of Woerth. 
In the town itself there were no French 
soldiers. The unfortunate inhabitants 
were half dead with fright; and, after 
the Prussians had taken possession, many 
houses were fired upon by the French, 
and some of the inhabitants were badly 
wounded. A " lazareth," or sanitary 
station, was established, and the ambu- 
lance corps of the Germans were soon 
bringing wounded into the captured town 
at the risk of their own lives. 

J ust outside the little dorf the slaughter 
had been so great that dead and wounded 



200 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

were piled together, and the living had bayonet wounds were found on his dead 

to be picked out of the ghastly heaps of body. 

the slain, while shells were making fresh While this sanguinary struggle was in 

victims close at hand. Several of the progress on the hill, and the straggling 

surgeons were killed on the held. One French reserve was hurrying up, a sharp 

prisoner told of being found at the very lire was begun from the left hank of the 

bottom of a heap of dead men; and a Sauerliach by the (iennans. This di- 

Prussian officer, whom I met afterwards verted the attention of the French, hut 

at Versailles, told me with much gusto was soon discovered to be a false attack, 

the manner in which the wounded rolled and did no great harm. Some of the 

into the ditches of the valley to escape French guns were presently dismounted 

bullets, lie himself, heavily wounded, by the artillery on the opposite hill, 

rolled into a ditch. Presently there and the French line began to waver 

joined him another, who died in a few under the tearing and rending shucks 

minutes. " By the time the battle was of the German lire. Some of the offi- 

over," he adds, " I was in the midsl of cers of the line, seeing that there was 

seven horrible-looking objects, who had every probability of being forced to 

rolled into the mud, just as 1 had, from surrender, marched into the thick of the 

instinct; and live of us saved our bullets, and fell. 

lives." Hereon these slopes varying fortune 

Rushing in wild confusion through and dealt continuous death, and the advance 

around the town the German troops gradually became more difficult, be- 

began charging up the steep hill, where cause not only of the piled-up slain, 

the French awaited them. By this lime hut of the hundreds, even thousands, 

the first French corps had changed its of knapsacks thrown away by both 

front, and a number of infantry regiments the combating parties. The vigorous 

advanced slowly down the hill to meet attack on the extreme right of Mac- 

the enemy, llall'-way up the declivity Mahon's position was at last crowned with 

the number of German dead decreased success. The Prussians, who had been 

rapidly, and the French began to tall bringing up artillery all the forenoon, 

like grain before the reaper. The (lei- had now about sixty pieces of cannon 

mans were determined to avenue the on the table-laud at Gunstett, opposite 

punishment received during their terrible Morsbronn, and protected their infantry, 

preliminary march, and they ran forward which charged in great numbers on the 

to short range, then began firing with Second division and the Second brigade 

most methodical dignify, always hitting of the Third division, at Elsasshauseu. 

and generally killing. The Turcos and The Bavarians ami the Wurtemburgers 

Zouaves were mown down rapidly, and were in this charge, and fought like ile- 

such was the indignation of the Germans mons, losing less killed than any other 

against die Wilden, as the Arabs were corps, " because," said a prisoner to me, 

called, that when one fell a shout of "they never stood still long enough to 

triumph arose. One lieutenant of a he shot." 

Turco regiment, mad with the instinct The powerful fire of the Gunstett bat- 

of coming defeat, ran forward, accom- tcries caused a wail to go up all over 

panied bv twenty of his men, plump into France two days after the battle. In 

the arms of the Germans. A dozen and around the hop-fields and vineyards 



EURCtrE IN STORM AND CALM. 



-.'Ill 



at Morsbronn Franco lost many a gallant 
gentleman and gay soldier on that bitter 
August day ; and it was a black hour 
and is a black memory. 

The Prussians gradually poured upon 
the field three to one against the small 
baud of Frenchmen, who now were 
fighting with the ferocity of despair. 
There was in the charge of Elsasshausen 
some hand-to-hand fighting, in which 
both sides manifested an animosity 
aroused by the mutual taunts before the 
war. It was when the tremulous bugles 
were sounding retreat and misfortune for 
the armies of France that there was a 
groat rush on either side for a final 
struggle. When this was over, the 
French, vanquished on the hills back of 
Woerth, and with their central right 
cleft in twain, found Marshal MacMahon 
in a fainting condition, with his horse 
killed under him. A French friend, 
who was in this battle, told mo that 
MacMahon narrowly escaped death a 
Jozen times. Once his cravat was shot 
away. The Marshal, reviving, took a 
hasty view of the situation, and the mel- 
ancholy retreat began. 

A noble soldier of the Forty-fifth 
French line, who was in this battle, and 
who was killed at Sedan, has left on 
record his impressions of the frightful 
condition of the French army after the 
fight. "All the corps," he wrote, 
" were mixed up in a nameless rabble. 
The enemy, from its advantageous posi- 
tion, threw its hissing shells into the 
midst of this crowd, cutting bloody fur- 
rows chrough it. The ground over which 
we walked was covered with dying and 
dead men. The entreaties of the 
wounded to us not to abandon them, 
and to carry them along, were heart- 
rending. The pursuit was ardent. Our 
rear-guard stopped from time to lime to 
engage the enemy, ami give our artillery 



a chance to get a little ahead, and to the 
engineer corps to Mock up the routes. 
At a short distance from Reichshoffen " 
(this is another French name for Woerth) 
'• our artillery fired its last shot, which 
the Marshal had carefully preserved, be- 
cause, if we may believe an eye-witness, 
at four o'clock in the afternoon we were 
already without much ammunition." 

It is said that Marshal MacMahon was, 
in a moment of despair and rage, in- 
clined to engage in a last charge into the 
enemy's lines in the hope of winning 
a soldier's death ; but his escort said to 
him: "Why get yourself killed? You 
must not go; you must come with us." 

So. covered with dust, with his clothes 
filled with bullet-holes, poor MacMahon 
designated Saverne as the rallying point 
for his troops, and left the hold which 
he had done his best to contest against 
overwhelming numbers. Saverne was 
eight leagues away, and eight leagues 
after such a day for this army, without 
proper ammunition, without food, and 
completely disorganized, was a terrible 
march. The French withdrew, leaving 
behind their wounded, all their baggage, 
six thousand prisoners, thirty-live can- 
non, six mitrailleuses, two flags, ami 
four thousand wounded men. They had 
lost General Colson, the Marshal's 
General of Staff. General Raoult was 
dying. It was. as the French writers 
described it at the time, not a defeat; 
it was a veritable disaster, — the blot- 
ting out of the most vigorous corps in 
the French army. 

The Germans admit that they lost 
aboiu eleven thousand men. and the 
French claim that the German victory 
cost Germany sixteen thousand men. 
The Crown Prince himself was profuse 
in his expressions of respect for the 
enemy which ho had encountered. 

Thus, on the 6th of August, the 



202 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Crown Prince had advanced his offen- 
sive line almost in exact unison with 
Steinmetz, at and beyond Saarbruck, 
towards the mosl important fortress of 
France. This very fortress France had 
nol prepared properly to defend, since 
she had counted on cutting into the 
enemy's country. 

While Genera] de Failly had beenhesi- 
tating between Bitche and Niederbronn, 
hearing the cannon thundering, without 
hastening to the scene of combat, as he 
should have done, the Second corps, that 



of General Frossard, had been attacked 
between Saarbruck and Forbach. 

Marshal Bazaine should have sent to 
this point sufficient forces to help Fros- 
sard ; but it is on record that Bazaine, 
when he heard of the scrape into which 
the Imperial favorite had got, said : 
" Let him earn his Marshal's bdton 
all alone." 

Poor Frossard not only got no Mar- 
shal's bdton, but by losing the day at 
Forbach he lost the Moselle to France. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



203 



CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO. 

The Great Battles in i'rout of and around .Met/.. — Friedrich Karl. — The Saarbruck Affair. — Folly 
and Incompetence. — The Brandenburg Cavalry. — The Field of Rezonville. — Gravelotte. — Saint 
Privat. — Mars La Tour. 



TTTIIEN the decimated Prussian regi- 
VV ments gathered together, to sing 
their evening hymn, after the victory at 
Woerth, two gigantic German armies 
were already on the soil of France, and 
rapidly effecting a junction. 

The Germans say that the splendid 
unity of the Crown Prince and of Stein- 
metz in action on the 26th was the Hrst 
great success of the war. For three 
days after Woerth the Crown Prince 
gave his whole time to provisioning his 
army, putting the living into the most 
comfortable condition possible, and the 
dead into the ground. The forty thou- 
sand men in the quartermaster's de- 
partment did their work well, and the 
supplies came rolling in from all direc- 
tions. Except the Prince, not a man, 
save the dare-devil Uhlanen, or Lancers, 
who went skirmishing about the barren 
country away from the army, suffered 
from hunger. The prisoners coming to 
the rear plucked up courage on the new 
diet, and took a jolly view of things. 

What was Friederich Karl, whose 
armies I had seen moving up through 
the denies of the Pfalz past Kaisers- 
lautern, doing all this time? 

In a letter to his wife, which was 
published in the Prussian papers of 
the day, he wrote: '• I am a half rag- 
ing man, for I cannot, with my accursed 
luck, tind these Frenchmen. They are 
all gone away." But Steinmetz, the 
"aged terrible," with seventy thousand 
men, was pushing forward rapidly by 
the short ways north of Metz, towards 



that virgin fortress ; and Friederich Karl, 
burning with emulation and a bit of 
professional jealousy, cut in by Pont-a- 
Mousson, and came up by the other way. 
The Crown Prince, only forty miles 
from Metz, was beginning to make the 
good old town of Nancy quake with the 
visits of his adventurous Uhlans. 

King William had taken absolute 
possession of the provinces wherein 
his armies were stationed ; had given 
them military government ; enumerated 
seventeen classes of people who would 
be shot without mercy if they interfered 
with military operations ; made the in- 
habitants furnish six cigars per day for 
each soldier, so said the angry Alsa- 
tians ; given them to understand that 
any soldier who abused them should be 
severely punished ; and even had time 
to answer the Pope's letter praying for 
peace, politely telling him to attend to 
his own affairs. 

The old King was often afield too ; 
rode reconnoitering, attended only by 
half-a-dozen officers ; sang hymns with 
tin' boys at the bivouacs ; wrote pious 
little letters to his Queen, intended, of 
course, to thrill the country ; devised 
even a gigantic scheme to catch Napo- 
leon, and make him a prisoner in front 
of Metz, but failed. 

The part played by the French Em- 
peror in the campaign up to the time 
of MacMahon's retreat upon Chalons 
was not calculated to inspire his sub- 
jects with admiration for his military 
or political talent. The recital of the 



1'04 



EUROPE I.V STURM AND CALM. 



Saiirbruck affair caused a ripple of laugh- 
ter at most of the European Courts, 
Mini the despatch sent oft' to the 
Empress the morning after the little 
engagement, ami published immediately 
by one of the leading Paris journals, 
made the dignified military men of the 
capital bite their lips and scowl. In 
this despatch Napoleon spoke of his 
son's having received the " baptism of 
fire;" of the shells and bullets falling 
at their Imperial feet ; of the Prince 
Imperial's coolness, and how he picked 
up a bullet which fell near him ; how the 
soldiers wept at seeing- him so calm, 
and how all this glory was procured at 
the moderate cost of one officer killed 
and a few soldiers wounded. 

"This mise-en-sc&ne," says a distin- 
guished French historian of the cam- 
paign, ''displeased everybody." The 
fact was, that the campaign which had 
been opened on the 2Cth of„ July by 
a skirmish at Niederbronn, had its 
second episode at Saiirbruck, which 
was occupied by a battalion of the 
Fortieth regiment of Prussian infantry, 
and three squadrons of cavalry, with 
a few pieces of artillery. The Germans 
were so confident that the French 
would make the first attack, and would 
cross the frontier, that they had ranged 
themselves in line of battle on the 
right bank of the Saar, had scut up 
two battalions to reinforce the troops 
in Saiirbruck as soon as the advance 
of the French was reported, and a few 
miles back had strong reserves to pro- 
tect the retreat of the little corps. The 
French took position on the heights of 
the left bank of the river, and their 
batteries swept the valley; and here 
the mitrailleuses for the first time made 
their hoarse voices heard. The action 

which began in the morning of the 2d 
of August culminated between eleven 



and one o'clock, when the French troops 
went, down from the heights, and 
opened a violent fire upon the town, 
for flic first lime getting a notion of the 
tactics of the Prussians, who, as usual 
in all their battles, were ambuscaded 
in the houses or behind their barri- 
cades. The Germans were obliged to 
retreat, which they dill with so much 
deliberation and in such good order 
that the French troops openly ex- 
pressed their admiration. A Prussian 
colonel, mounted on a white horse, 
braved the fire of the mitrailleuses so 
often that he was cheered by both 
sides. 

Despatches announcing a "great vic- 
tory " were sent off to Paris ; but the 
German account, published the same 

day, and telegraphed throughout Europe 
reduced the incident to its proper pro- 
portions. It read as follows: ••Yes- 
terday, at ten o'clock in the morning, a 
little detachment of our troops at Saiir- 
bruck was attacked by three divisions 
of the enemy. The town was bombarded 
at noon by twenty-three pieces of artil- 
lery. At two o'clock the town had been 
evacuated and the detachment retired. 
Our losses arc small. According to the 
report of a prisoner, the Emperor was in 
front of Saiirbruck at eleven o'clock." 

Had the men of the Second Empire 
not fully appreciated their weakness 
they might have had the courage to seize 
upon the little advantage which they at 
first gained at Saiirbruck. and to push 
boldly forward into Germany, hoping 
that the nation would rise behind them, 
and that the armies, now coming rapidly 
forward, despite their miserable com- 
missariat anil other defects of equipment, 
might rush in ami sweep the Germans 
back fo the Rhine. Hut all the leaders 
of the Empire knew that the corruption 
and the lack of preparation were not to 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



205 



be remedied. They must have foreseen 
disaster, and they determined to satisfy 
themselves with a vain show of resistance. 
Marshal MacMahon is the only one who 
can be exempted from this reproach. 

No sooner had the Emperor sent off 
his despatch to the Empress than he 
went back to Metz, but not to remain 
there long. It is curious that his de- 
parture from the great fortress should 
coincide with the beginning of the battles 
around Metz. He left on the morning 
of the 14th, accompanied by the Prince 
Imperial, and was off again for Verdun 
as soon as the action at Longeville ap- 
peared to have turned in favor of the 
French. The Germans made much 
sport of the unfortunate Emperor, and 
their papers were filled with anecdotes 
about his journey. "At one place," 
says one account, "the Emperor asks 
for a glass of wine at a railway station, 
and drinks from the same glass as the 
station-master. The young Prince after- 
wards washes his hands in the goblet. 
Soon after the Emperor leaves in a 
rough carriage, and refuses with great 
heroism the cushion offered him. It 
is not every day," adds the sarcastic 
German, " that one goes to or from a 
baptism of fire." Another account says 
that all Paris is grumbling because it 
hears that three regiments have been 
taken from Bazaine's army to guard the 
Imperial party to Ch&lons. A common 
remark among the French soldiers when 
Napoleon's name was mentioned was : 
" Do not speak of that donkey to us ! " 

Poor MacMahon's retreat upon Cha- 
lons occupied about fourteen days. 
As the Crown Prince's army was push- 
ing on vigorously in pursuit, the French 
abandoned all along the route of march 
cases of biscuit, and forage wagons ; and 
the Fifth corps left behind nearly all its 
provisions, which were not enormous. 



The soldiers were in complete disorder. 
'•Never," says one writer, "had a 
French army presented such a lack of 
discipline. The soul of the country 
seemed to have taken wings after de- 
parted victory." In the villages the 
.soldiers sacked the barn-yards and 
hunted the poultry for their empty 
camp-kettles. An officer of high rank 
has recorded in his diary that he was 
attacked by two men of his own divis- 
ion, who endeavored to rob him, like 
veritable highwaymen. He was obliged 
to use his weapons against them. The 
niins were almost incessant during the 
retreat ; the army had no tents, no 
knapsacks, for nearly all had been 
thrown away after leaving the field 
of Wberth. The men were covered 
with mud ; their cartridge-boxes were 
thoroughly drenched; and, if they had 
been forced into a fight, they would have 
been overwhelmed by a new disaster. 

The ablest German military critics 
were prodigal of condemnation for the 
Emperor's interference to prevent the 
retreat of Bazaine upon Verdun. " The 
motive," says one of these critics, 
"which prevented the Emperor Napo- 
leon from ordering the army of Metz to 
retreat at once to join with that of Mac- 
Mahon, after the 10th of August, still 
remains an enigma. On the 10th of 
August there were at Metz at least 
one hundred and eighty thousand good 
troops, able to tight vigorously, espe- 
cially all those of the Imperial Guard, 
which was. without dispute, the Bite of 

the French army. Metz was too | rly 

provisioned for such a colossal garrison, 
and hunger would naturally bring about 
its capitulation. But the place was 
sufficiently provided with food, for 
many months, for a garrison of fifty 
thousand men, and would thus have 
been practically impregnable." 



20C 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



The folly and incompetence of the 
Imperial conduct of the war was again 
shown in forcing MacMahon, when be 
was installed at Chalons, and when his 
matchless talent for organization had 
pulled together one hundred and twenty 
thousand men and four hundred cannons 
and seventy mitrailleuses, to leave a 
place where he could have turned and 
fought the enemy, which was pursuing 
him, to great advantage, and to make 
a roundabout tour across the country, 
perilously near the Belgian frontier, and 
so down, to relieve Bazaine under the 
walls of Met/.. •• If MacMahon," says 
the same German critic whom 1 have 
just quoted, "did not wish, or was not 
allowed, to join the army of Bazaine at 
once after the surprise of Weissenburg, 
Woerth, ami Spichercn, the best plan for 
him would have been to stay at Chalons, 
to defend the passage of the Maria', and 
offer upon that ground a battle to the 
armies of the two royal princes of Prussia 
and Saxony. He could there have con- 
centrated about two hundred thousand 
men in the days between the 24th and the 
30th of August. This army, in favorable 
positions along the Marne, would have 
been a very dangerous adversary for the 
German troops, and would have checked 
themarchon Paris. If the French had been 
beaten they would still have had a line of 
certain retreat, falling back within the line 
of the forts of Paris. But if the Germans 
had been beaten their situation would 
have been desperate. In point of fact 
the Germans had at their back Metz and 
its one hundred and eighty thousand 
men, and I.ongwy, Montmedy, Thion- 
ville, Toul, Phalsbourg, Strasbourg. 
Langres, Brisach, and Schlestadt, with 
their garrisons. A defeat of the < !cr- 
mans in the month of August in the 
neighborhood of Chalons would have 
been the signal for an armed uprising in 



Alsatia and Lorraine, in the Vosges, and 
on the Cote d'Or." 

It is well known in France that Mac- 
Mahon yielded to the Emperor's tardy 
determination when he pushed on to 
Met/., where the lighting was pretty well 
over, with great difficulty ; but: he was a 
soldier, accustomed to obey, and hisstrong 
objections were stated only once or twice. 
That the Emperor was mainly responsible 
for the movement which culminated in the 
disgrace of Sedan, and in the blocking 
of Bazaine's army for months in Met/., 
is shown by a despatch sent from the 
Imperial head-quarters, on the loth of 
August, 1870, to the then Minister of 
War in Paris: '• I send you the result 
of a Council of War, which will give you 
the measures that I have decided upon." 
As the result of this despatch the Min- 
ister of War telegraphed to Marshal 
MacMahon : " In the name of the Coun- 
cil of Ministers and of the private Coun- 
cil, I beg you immediately to succor 
Bazaine, profiting by the thirty hours' 
advance that you have on the Crown 
Prince of Prussia." MacMahon did not 
leave Chalons until the 23d of August, 
in the morning. 

The Emperor, who seemed but little 
ruffled by the great events which had 
meantime taken place in the vicinity of 
Metz, went with him. The " man of 
destiny" once more shone forth in him, 
and. rattling along in his heavy campaign 
carriage, wrapped in his huge black 
clonk lined with red, he assumed his 
old Caesarian air, and. doubtless, hoped 
for a few short days that fate would be 
propitious. 

Meantime the great events above 
mentioned were destined vastly to mod- 
ify the campaign. < >n the 13th of 
August the King of Prussia moved his 
head-quarters from St. Avoid to Fal- 
quemont, or Falkenburg, as the Germans 



EUROPE IX STORM AND I' MM. 



207 



call it, and announced to Napoleon, by and by a squadron of the Guides, 

the reconnoissanees that his troops then through a crowd of sad and silent citi- 

made, that he was but twenty miles from zens." 

Metz. lie spent the night still nearer, Steinmetz was already across the 
at Hermy, and was there on the evening Moselle, and coming from the north 
of the 1/itli also. Bazaine, who had in all haste towards Metz. Fried- 
been engaged in hasty movements from erich Karl was hurrying up, but 
the 10th to the 13th, was suspected by had not arrived on the morning 
Von Moltke of being anxious to retire to of the 14th. when Steinmetz, 
Verdun, and thence to Chalons, where whose duty it was to keep 
he could join the vast forces which Mae- Bazaine's whole army em- 



ployed until 
should appear 
tween Met/ 
Verdun, 
attacked. 
P r i n c e 
F r ied- 
e r i c h 
Kail's 




Mahon, who had not yet got his fatal 
orders to move forward, was bringing 
together, and where battle could be given 
in earnest. Von Moltke at once decided 
to prevent Bazaine, at any cost, from 
reaching either Verdun or Chalons, as lie 
was naturally desirous of leaving the 
Crown Prince unobstructed passage 
towards Paris. He wished, also, to have 
Bazaine's army as thoroughly broken as 
possible before Metz, and 
then pushed hack, so that 
Steinmetz and Friederich Karl 
could proceed forward to join 
the Crown Prince. It seems 
pretty evident that if Bazaine 
hail not been occupied with 
squabbles with his officers in 
Metz he would have done all 
he could to hinder the move- 
ment of retreat, so necessary 
and so wise. It was, how- 
ever, Ivy the 14th so thorough- 
ly organized that he could not 
well interfere. 

"On the 14th," says a French 
officer, "our interminable processions road lay along the ven 
began across the Moselle. Every soldier 



HEAD-QUARTEUS OF NAPOLEON AT CHALONS. 



was bent double under the weight of his 
baggage. The army, which ought to 
have been as swift as the wind, might 
have been compared with its burdens 
and its absurd impedimenta to the army 



very 

Bazaine's army must take on its way 
to unite with MacMahon, unless he 
was willing to give the united two 
armies battle. Bazaine endeavored to 
draw his forces from the right to the 
left bank of the Moselle as quietly as 



of Darius. The Emperor had g<me off possible, so as not to attract the enemy's 
at noon, escorted by the cents gardes, attention; but as soon as the movement 



208 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



was perceived General Steinmetz pushed 
forward a part, of the Seventh corps, 
under the command of General Gotz, to 
attack the rear-guard of Decaen's corps. 
It was quite late in the afternoon, and 
the Prussians were so hasty in their at- 
tack that they once or twice came under 
the guns of the fortress, and were 
obliged to retire in disorder. General 
Frossard's corps at once went to assist 
Decaen, who was shortly engaged with 
all his men. and a desperate fight ensued, 
during which Bazaine continued to 
operate liis retreat across the stream. 
The slaughter was fearful on both sides, 
and the Prussian losses, through their 
own incaution in getting within range of 
the guns of Met/., were very consider- 
able. 

Bazaine soon saw that he could not 
continue his retreat, and sent General 
Ladmirault to combat the First Prussian 
corps. The Second Prussian brigade, 
under ( ieneraK dinner, joined to the divis- 
ion of Generals Kameke and Wrangel, 
finally drove the French forces in large 
numbers across the river and to the for- 
tifications of Metz, up under their 
cover. General Von Manteuffel, who 
had been placed in the reserve, was then 
called into action, and for hours was 
occupied in storming the positions which 
the French had taken here and there. 
He finally forced them to quit each one, 
but not until he had suffered heavily. 
For more than an hour and a hall' he 
was within range of .Met/., and his men 
were under a crushing shower of deadly 
hail: hut they on no occasion flinched, 
and later in thedav pushed on to Horny, 
still nearer .Met/. The greater pari of 
thi' battle was fought on a plain called 
Metrv. between Vougy and St. Bailee, 
two small villages. The French were 
very confident of victory, so great were 
the Prussian losses, and so telling was 



the continuous tire from the forts; and 
Genera] Cofflniere telegraphed to Napo- 
leon at Longeville, where the Emperor 
was waiting in his carriage: " All along 
the line we remain victors. At half-past 
eight we are about to charge again." 
There was in fact a night charge, ami 
the Prussian columns, which came back 
stubbornly to the tight, were repulsed. 
Napoleon was delighted, and, holding out 
his hand to Bazaine, who came up to his 
carriage after this last charge, said to 
him : •• Well, Marshal, you seem to have 
broken the charm." Meantime King 
William was telegraphing to Berlin that 
he had had a victorious encounter at 
Borny, near Metz ; that the French had 
been driven back, and that he was just 
going on to the field of battle. 

The French corps commanded by Lad- 
mirault and De Failly had suffered worse 
than the others, as they were on the 
right bank of the river, about four miles 
from Metz, ami terribly scourged by 
shell. Bazaine sent over some of the 
troops, which were already in full retreat, 
to help them. Steinmetz hail thus suc- 
ceeded in hindering Bazaine in his 
retreat, but he did not attempt the dan- 
gerous task of following him up. The 
German troops were drawn off the held 
at ten o'clock, and marched to bivouac. 
There they were visited by the King 
and his staff; and from Von Steinmetz, 
Von Manteuffel, and others, the old 
monarch learned that Von Moltke's first 
requisite had been gained. Prayers 
were said, and a general season of re- 
joicing was entered upon. _vll night 
the watchers on the walls of Metz could 
hear the anthems and the chorals of the 
soldiers rising superbly clear out of the 
darkness and distance, and wondered 
how tin 1 armies which had suffered such 
terrible losses during that afternoon 
could muster courage to sing. The 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



209 



losses on the Prussian side were roughly 
estimated at from eight thousand to 
sixteen thousand men at the time ; the 
French on that day lost about thirty-fi iui 
hundred men, killed and wounded. The 
vineyards, the ravines, the woods, were 
filled with Prussian bodies, and the 
slaughter would have been greater if the 
French artillery had not come to the end 
of its ammunition and been compelled to 
retire before nightfall. As in nearly all 
the battles of the war the French artillery 
opened with a terrifying fire; then, just 
at the moment it was most needed, had 
nothing to fire with. 

All night the pale moon showed to 
the pickets of the reposing armies 
shadowy forms Hitting about on the 
battle-field. These were the Prussians 
and the French delegated to secure the 
wounded and bury the dead. This was 
clone in silence and in sorrow, no encoun- 
ters occurring while the solemn duty was 
performed. 

Monday, the anniversary of the birth 
of the great Napoleon, the 15th of 
August, usually celebrated in Paris with 
impressive ceremonials, brought bright 
sunshine to the fields covered with 
blackened and mangled corpses, and 
looked down upon the Emperor in swift 
retreat. Next day Steiurnetz contented 
himself with skirmishes, none of which 
rose to the dignity of a battle. The care 
of the wounded, the burial of the dead, 
and the repose of the fatigued army oc- 
cupied most of tin 1 time. The King 
visited the field early in the morning and 
personally superintended the removal of 
many of the wounded. Then lie wrote 
more despatches to his Queen. 

On the 15th the army of Friederich 
Karl was in full march on the road which 
furnished Bazaine his main avenue of 
escape to Verdun. There are two roads 
from Metz to Verdun, here and there 



running parallel. That upon which Ba- 
zaine had decided to retreat is the old 
Roman road, which at Gravelotte, one 
and one-fourth miles west of Metz, splits 
into two avenues, one leading by Don- 
court to Verdun; the other through the 
villages of Rezonville, Vionville, and 
Mars-la-Tour, to the same place. Vion- 
ville, three miles from Doncourt, is two 
and three-fourths miles west of .Met/.. 
Gravelotte is nearly eleven miles from 
the fortress, and is a small hamlet of 
seven hundred inhabitants, built on a 
high bluff. This height governs on the 
east the valley of the Meuse. Vion- 
ville, a simple Alsatian tlurf, is six miles 
beyond. From Verdun to Metz the dis- 
tance is thirty-five miles ; from Mars-la- 
Tour, which became an important point 
in the battle of the 10th, it is twenty-one 
miles; from Gravelotte to Mars-la-Tour 
is mx miles, on an excellent highway. 
Rezonville, from which point the King 
of Prussia sent his famous letter to the 
Queen on the 19th, is about one mile 
directly south of Gravelotte. The coun- 
try is broken and hilly, very charming, 
and full of scenic surprises. There 
an' so many little villages through which 
the next battle was waged that the ac- 
tion of the 16th of August was (■.•died 
shortly after its occurrence by half-a- 
dozen different names. The French 
soldiers designated it either as Vionville 
or Doncourt. Bazaine's telegram, in 
which he said that he had fought the two 
great German armies from Vionville to 
Doncourt all day long, convinced the 
French that these wei'e the proper names 
for the light. 

Bazaine's whole army was retreating 
in remarkably good order, on Monday 
morning, when the Marshal heard that 
Friederich Karl, advancing from Pont-a- 
Mousson, had struck in on to the high- 
way, and placed himself in a strong posi- 



210 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



tion nil Mars-la-Tour. Bazaine could 
hardly believe that his enemy had made 
s<> rapid an advance, and continued cau- 
tiously, an enemy behind, an enemy in 
front, and an enemy ravaging the fair 
land to which he was endeavoring to re- 
treat. He was right. Friedericb Karl 
had not had time to gain this ground; he 
had, however, sent forward the magnifi- 
cent division of Brandenburg cavalry to 
Mars-la-Tour, to hold the great column 
of nearly two hundred thousand men in 
check until he could conic up with his 
main column. Bazaine saw the situa- 
tion at once, and ordered an attack by 
divisions, — of Decaen's the Third corps, 
Ladmirault's the Seventh, Frossard's the 
Second, Canrobert's the Sixth, and the 
line Imperial Guard, the prideof France 
ami tlie flower of her soldiery. The 
Brandenburgers held the' furious French 
in partial cheek for more than six 
hours, until Friedericb Karl's Third and 
Tenth corps, successfully supported by 
divisions of the Eighth ami Ninth, came 
up. During this time the German cav- 
alry, according to the French authorities, 
had been fairly decimated; ••almost 
blotted out," says one writer, lint now 
came the fresh German troops into ac- 
tion, rushiug out of the woods upon Yi- 
onville, and taking that village by storm. 
In front of Rezonville General Bataille 
had lice n wounded, and the Second corps, 

after having bravely withstood the at- 
tack, had l>enl back, and was protected 
in its retreat by the Third Lancers, and 
by the Cuirassiers of the Guard. 

During this movement there was a 
charge of Prussian Hussars upon some 
artillery with which Bazaine was trying 
to cover the attack of the French cui- 
rassiers, and the .Marshal and his general 
staff wen- surrounded by the German 
troopers. There was a little hand-to- 
hand fighting, and the .Marshal was for 



a moment or two in imminent danger of 
being taken prisoner. But just then a 
wave of French cavalry swept up, over- 
whelming the Germans, and protecting 
the cannon which they were trying to 
take. If Bazaine had perished on that 
day he would have been accounted a 
hero. 

The Germans were now massed with 
their right on Mars-La-Tour. They 
had taken Vionville, and they next 
directed their attention to the village of 
Flavigny. There took place one of the 
sharpest combats of the war, the French 
batteries shelling the Prussians who were 
established in the woods near by, and 
killing them by hundreds. Much of the 
lighting was done in the large wheat- 
fields, ami there the French drove back 
the assaults time and time again. The 
ripening grain was reddened with the 
blood shed in the awful shock of cavalry, 
and in the slaughter effected by the 
mitrailleuse batteries. At the west of 
the battle-field Hows the river Orne, and 
the many little brooks tributary to this 
river were red with blood before the 
struggle was finished. 

Although the French showed pro- 
digious valor on this day, and on the 
whole fought with consummate skill, it 
is clear that they were taken completely 
by surprise iu the morning. One of the 
Generals, who was in the retreat, affirmed 
that very day that there was not a Prus- 
sian on the whole line of inarch. When 
his division was attacked the horses 
were picketed ami unsaddled. Prince 
Murat, iu command of the first brigade, 
came out of his tent, and went into action, 
with his napkin in his hand, lie had 
been breakfasting as tranquilly as if he 
were at the Cafe Anglais. The decisive 
and most formidable attack of the Ger- 
mans was towards the end of the day, 
when fresh soldiers came up to grapple 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



211 



with the exhausted French. General von 
Alvensleben took two regiments of a 
cavalry division, and gave them orders 
to take the French batteries, which were 
causing such terrific losses in the German 
lines. These gallant troops swept down 
bravely to the attack on the position, 
passed through the French lines, and 
went up on to a little height, which had 
concealed from them one of the French 
divisions. Then they rushed at full 
speed along the wood of Vionville. This 
gave the French cavalry an excellent 
opportunity for attack ; and a brigade of 
dragoons and the Seventh Cuirassiers 
hurled themselves dowu upon the Ger- 
mans, who were stupefied by this sudden 
move. Two squadrons of the Tenth 
Cuirassiers came to harass the unlucky 
Germans from the rear, and the rout was 
complete. Oddly enough the Seventh 
Prussian Cuirassiers had a terrible con- 
flict with the Seventh French Cuirassiers 
on this day. The Sixteenth regiment of 
Prussian infantry lost its flag, and at the 
close of the action had but one hundred 
and sixty men left out of three thousand. 
On the right, towards the close of the 
day, the French had the whole advan- 
tage. The Germans still maintained 
their position in the centre. The Ninety- 
third French line was driven in by the 
Prussian Cuirassiers. Its flag was taken, 
and one piece of cannon was being 
carried of!' when a detachment of French 
cavalry swept down from the heights of 
Vionville, chased the Cuirassiers, look- 
back the flag of the Ninety-third, and 
the cannon also. 

The day was finished with the last 
and magnificent charge of the Prussian 
cavalty on the French right, which re- 
sisted manfully; and the French, who 
had been so unhappy in all their efforts 
up to these days of mid-August, could 
justly claim that they were victors 



when night fell upon the bloody field 
of Rezonville. 

Next morning the troops were horri- 
fied at the ghastly spectacle of the 
hundreds of corpses piled in fantastic 
shapes, or here and there standing 
propped against each other, where a 
tremendous gap had been made in 
an advancing line of battle. The Ger- 
mans had lost about seventeen thou- 
sand men, and the French were not 
much better off. The French claim 
that they had only one hundred and 
twenty thousand men in the action, and 
that the Germans brought one hundred 
and eighty thousand soldiers upon the 
field. 

Bazaine at this time appears to have 
been more occupied with protecting his 
line of retreat upon Metz than in carv- 
ing his way forward to his junction 
with MacMahon. He never, say the 
soldiers who were in the light, manoeu- 
vred as if he wished to get to Chalons. 
The army was intoxicated with success. 
and cried out to be led forward; but 
Bazaine paid no attention to their de- 
mands. 

In these battles, as in all the others, the 
quartermaster's department was noticea- 
ble chiefly for its miserable incompe- 
tence. " Ou the 16th, in the morning," 
says a well known military writer, 
"the Second and the Sixth corps were 
almost entirely without food. The First 
was waiting for rations, which the 
quartermaster's department was to send 
from Metz, and had not a day's pro- 
vision of biscuit. On the 17th an- 
other corps had nothing but rice. 
There had been no forage since the 
14th for one of the cavalry regiments, 
which had to make two charges with- 
out food for men or horses; and yet 
we were in France, and only seven 
kilometres from a town like Metz. 



212 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

supposed to be provisioned for a long mount the heights near Chatel ; and 

siege." between that town and Amanvilliers the 

The 17th was devoted, as the loth slopes are covered with tiers, which 
had been, to trifling skirmishes. King run in an unbroken line from Vion- 
William was on the field, as at Horny, ville to Amanvilliers. Eastward, be- 
soon after the tight, and addressed the hind these woods, lies Verueville, and 
troops, expressing his admiration of between Verueville and Gravelotte ex- 
their conduct. II Bazaine considered tends another wood. Mont St. Quentin, 
himself victorious, the Prussian King between Chatel and Metz, has a fort on 
also claimed the victory. King Wil- its summit, and is covered by the forest, 
liam is supposed to have urged on the of Sauliguy, which runs behind St. Privat 
battle of the 18th, which was to he a to the valley of the Orne. Early in the 
final effort to sweep Bazaine from all morning the Twelfth and Ninth corps of 
the positions lie had gained on the the Royal German Guard went towards 
high-road, semi him back to .Met/, Doucourt, followed by the Third and 
and make the way clear for the inarch Tenth corps, while the Seventh, Eighth, 
of the Germans to join the Crown and Second remained at Rezonville. As 
Prince. the first-mentioned corps went through 

At the beginning of the battle on the the woods near Verueville and St. Privat 

18th the French troops on the heights the last-mentioned attacked Bazaine's 

of St. Privat and Ste. M»rie-aux-Chenes intrenchment near Gravelotte, keeping 

received the same surprise as at Forbach up a mild attack until the others could 

on the 16th. Whole brigades of Prus- come round by Chatel and Amanville. 

sians suddenly emerged from the forests. The Ninth corps was in the battle before 

which a few hours before the French had noon; the others did not enter before 

known to be vacant. Hut Bazaine was four o'clock. The Flench held the woods 

beginning to understand this manoeuvre, so lone; as they were not outnumbered, 

and was ready to receive the enemy, and the Germans lost great numbers of 

At eleven o'clock the tire opened from men among the trees. The slopes, even 

both sides all along a very extensive on the 20th, were still covered with the 

line. Gravelotte and Rezonville, where w< ded, and the uuburied dead began 

Bazaine had strongly entrenched him- to smell. St. Privat and Verneville 

self, were the .scene of t he most sangui- were finally taken. 

nary lighting. About noon the French The general composition of the Ger- 

soldiers saw a black mas- of Prussian man army was as follows: the left, 

infantry coming down from Gravelotte. wing was composed of (he Twelfth Saxon 

The artillery sent a storm of shells into corps, the Centre guard, and tin 1 Ninth 

these moving lines, and the slaughter army corps ; behind these, in reserve, 

was great. The loss of life in this en- was the Brandenburg corps, whose artil- 

counter was probably greater than in any lery came into the attack between Aman- 

other battle of the century. The French ville and St. Privat, and was attached to 

soldiers had rapidly entrenched them tin- Hesse-Darmstadt division, and the 

selves, and kept up a tremendous lire Schleswig-IIolstein corps. The right 

upon the advancing Germans. wing was on the right and left of the 

The three great roads, which radiate main road leading from Mars-la-Tour 

westward and northward from Metz, towards Metz. and consisted of the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



213 



Seventh Westphalia corps, under Stein- 
metz, raid the Eighth, behind which the 
Second corps stood in reserve. 

The Prussian light first took up the 
fight at Gravelotte. Meantime the cen- 
tre and left German armies swung to 
the right, and altered its front, previ- 
ously north-east, to east. The Saxons 
attacked St. Privat ; the Guards Anuui- 
ville ; the Ninth corps the woods of Verne- 
ville, afterwards taking the village of the 
same name. At last, after the most 
valorous lighting, during which the Prus- 
sians were repeatedly driven hack, the 
French right was driven into the centre, 
between Gravelotte and Yerneville, ami 
their back was threatened at Chatel. 

Towards five o'clock in the afternoon 
the fatigued and almost broken French 
soldiery were swept down upon by sixty 
thousand fresh troops. Batteries were 
suddenly unmasked to sweep the ranks 
of Canroberfs soldiers; and the Royal 
German "orps and the Tenth Prussian 
corps swarmed upon the breach made in 
the French ranks, which the Saxons were 
menacing from the rear. This was the 
dread moment of the day. The French 
fought like demons. Here a battalion 
of the Twenty-eighth line stood valiantly 
in the trenches and perished to the last 
man. General Canrobert, sword in 
hand, was in the first rank, encouraging 
and pushing on the soldiers. He kept 
up this resistance for more than two 
hours. In the gathering dusk a severe 
attack was made on Gravelotte ; but the 
French opened such a good lire that, tin' 
ditches were filled with the dead of the 
Second Prussian corps, which was at the 



head of the attack. This corps finally 
charged the position at the point of the 
bayonet, and after a hard light, protracted 
until the combatants could scarcely see 
each other, Gravelotte was surrendered, 
anil the French fell a little back. As the 
darkness stole over the land the cries of 
the wounded, the crashing of the cannon, 
the flames of the burning villages and 
farm-yards, and the long lines of troops 
moving silently, and almost stealthily, to 
strengthen the positions which they had 
taken, formed a spectacle as dreadful as 
it was impressive. Marshal Bazaine was 
not in this fight at all. No one knows 
why he was not in it. for no one ever ac- 
cused him of being a coward; but he 
was at some distance from the scene of 
action, and seemed to take but little 
interest in it. The aged King of Prussia 
narrowly escaped annihilation by inimical 
grenades twice during the fight, and his 
whole staff was at one time in imminent 
danger. After the battle, in which he 
had seen one of his favorite regiments 
entirely cut to pieces, lie slept all night 
on a hand ambulance wagon near a house 
in Rezonville. 

Whatever the French thought of their 
stubborn resistance the Prussians had 
succeeded in effecting their purpose. 
Steinmetz had made his junction with 
the forces of Friederich Karl. The road 

seemed clear to Chalons, thence to Paris. 
Bazaine could not now retreat to Verdun. 
He had inflicted terrible losses on the 
German armies, and his troops did not 
seem a whit demoralized; but nearly all 
the positions they had held and desired 
to maintain were now in German hands. 



214 EUSOTE IN STORM AM) CALM. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE. 

French and German Rumors. — The Jaumont Quarries. — Truth about this Incident. — The Wounded at 
Frankfort. — Serving in an Extempore Sanitary Corps. — Paris in Confusion. — The Spy Scare. — 
Dangerous to Speak (he Truth. — A new Mini-try. — Comte De Palikao. — Jules Favre's Campaign 
against the Falling Empire. — The Excited Crowds. — The Empire ends, as it began, in Mood. 

A SERIES of splendid and historic thousand men had gone down into these 
spectacles passed before my quarries, and asserted that after the 
gaze during the next two months, battle wagons of quicklime were thrown 
The whole German land was filled with upon them; and that Friederich Karl 
rumors of revolution in Paris, — rumors was so affected by the terrible result of 
as untrue at that particular time as the false manoeuvre (if his cavalry that 
they weir prophetic of the horror and he was almost insane for a day or two. 
ruin which were to come. The German This story even got into the English 
press, too, w;is tilled with sensational papers; hut il had no foundation what- 
tales of the brief campaign around Metz. ever. In truth the quarries of Jau- 
The carnage was ten times magnified; mont actually existed, hut they were 
but one needed only to walk through far behind the French lines on the day 
the streets of the great towns like of the attack on St. Hubert ; and the 
Frankfort, Darmstadt, Carlsruhe, May- whole story came from the great 
ence, Cologne, and to see the women slaughter of Germans near another 
clad in black and the houses filled with quarry, on the left wine- of the French 
mourners, to realize that the shock of army. General Zastrow, during the 
battle had been attended with tremen- attack, had sent up by the highway 
dous loss. three batteries of a reserve of the 
In France the favorite pastime of Seventh army corps, escorted by the 
the stay-at-home class was the inven- Fourth Uhlan regiment, so as to pro- 
tion of dreadful catastrophes which had tcct his soldiers who were in full re- 
befallen the Germans. The story of treat. A few minutes afterwards, men 
the quarries of Jaumont was one of and horses, rushing away from the 
these inventions. It was said, by the frightful carnage beyond, were crowded 
French, that in the terrible fight which pell-mell into the narrow gorge through 
took place around the St. Hubert farm which the road runs, and were riddled 
Prince Friederich Fail had sent a with shot from the French sharpshoot- 
number of squadrons of his best cavalry ers ambuscaded in the Genevieux forest, 
headlong into some deserted quarries, All those who had the had hick to get 
where horses and men fell together to into this defile, which was scarcely 
die in lingering torture. As there was twenty yards wide, were either swept 
no occasion to lie exact in the statement down by the fusillade, or crowded over 
of a. loss which an implacable enemy into the quarries. The clearest ac- 
had inflicted upon itself, the French counts of this affair indicate that only 
accounts boldly declared that thirty thirty or forty horses, aud perhaps 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



215 



half a hundred men, were carried over 
the edge of the defile and perished 
below. 

The Germans were not <me whit be- 
hind the French in their inventive 
powers ; and all the way down to Frank- 
fort from the frontier I heard stories, 
which, while not calculated to cast 
doubt upon the valor of the French, 
were intended to show the unquestionable 
superiority of the German soldier. I 
was struck, however, with the singular 
absence of animosity against the French 
in any of the remarks of the German 
soldiers. Now that the tide had turned, 
and that the return match was to lie 
played, not only the military, but the 
civil party, had taken on an air of dignity 
and seemed governed by a determination 
to say nothing ill of its ancient enemies. 
Besides, Germany was inspired by the 
knowledge that important political events 
were about to take place within her 
boundaries. The foundation of the 
Empire ; the welding of the national life 
into one homogeneous mass out, of the 
union of inharmonious and petty States ; 
the triumphant vindication of the wisdom 
of Bismarck's policy of '-blood and 
iron ; " the uprising of an Imperial 
authority, which was to give the whole 
German land new burdens, but at the 
same time new strength and perhaps 
new liberties, — all these things were 
being pondered by the most intelligent 
nation in Europe with that gravity which 
is so characteristic of it ; and there was 
little rejoicing, — little, at least, that: a 
stranger could observe. 

At Darmstadt we found that the 
regular trains had begun their trips once 
more ; but as each engine had to draw 
back sixty or seventy empty carriages, 
which had gone off filled with troops, 
we were twice the usual time in getting 
to Frankfort. I had no sooner arrived 



there than 1 received a notice from the 
police-office to appear at the railway- 
station at a given hour, and to be pre- 
pared to serve with the citizens of the 
sanitary committee in care of the 
wounded. This obligation was imposed 
upon all strangers staying more than 
twenty-four hours in the town ; and at 
the appointed time, therefore, I went to 
the great Maiu-Neckar Station, where 
I received a red-cross badge, and was 
stationed, as if I had been a German all 
my life, at a certain point to await an 
incoming train. While I was observing 
a number of French officers and a few 
/ouaves. prisoners, who were gloomily 
smoking cigarettes in a corner, a train 
of fifty odd cars, mainly freight-wagons, 
on the floors of which bountiful quanti- 
ties of straw had been scattered, rolled 
into the station. In these cars lay in 
bloody, and sometimes hardly distin- 
guishable, heaps, the wounded French 
and Prussians. The first few carriages 
were filled with dangerously wounded 
Frenchmen, and, whether by accident or 
by design, I was deputed to serve with 
a surgeon in succoring these prisoners. 
In a group was one Turco, a Zouave, a 
captain who hail lost his epaulettes and 
was stretched on the floor, and a lieuten- 
ant who had been wounded three times, 
and whose right arm was already swollen 
to twice its natural size. The native 
courtesy of these unfortunate fellows 
was admirably exemplified by their feeble 
efforts to rise when we entered the car. 
I sat down by the captain, ami when the 
surgeon had attended to his wound I 
wrote his letters, and then we talked of 
the battle, — one of the many in front of 
Metz. One officer said that in all his 
campaigns he had never seen such noble 
treatment of prisoners. 

He was presently taken out of his 
blood-stained bed of straw, and given 



216 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



new garments, plenty of breakfast, and At Frankfort keen resentment was still 

even clean linen. Surgi s and pkysi- felt againsl Prussia, hut there was no 

eians were \\-\\. as the great mass of open expression of it. The excited 
them were al the front; so the non-pro- crowds were kept carefully back, and 
fessional civilians were compelled to when a wounded man was strapped and 
trusl to their own slight knowledge for held down to have a festering or sup- 
the binding of wounds. Most of the purating wound probed, he was cared for 
prisoned were wounded twice, generally as tenderly as if lie were a son of Ger- 
in the arm or leg; the majority of the many. Field-post cards were distributed, 
Germans once only, either in the breast, ami gratified the prisoners mote than 
the head, or the lower limbs. Among anything else. They were simply 
the German troops were a number of pasteboard cards, with space for an 
Bavarians, probably the boys whom we ordinary letter, and printed directions 
had seen leaving Speyer, and many of how to send them. They were also 
these wen' savagely wounded, as if they during the campaign freely distributed 
had indulged in much hand-to-hand to the wounded on the field or in far- 
fighting. The Bavarians are t<> tin' away hospitals in a hostile country. The 
German race what the Yankees are to Prussian held post took them to the 
the American, and have the same whim- army lines, and then they were passed on. 
sical, picturesque way of talking. One In the carriages where Prussians and 
little fellow, scarcely tall enough to be a French were crowded together the best 
soldier, and with a childish face, had of feeling seemed to prevail, with one or 
part of his right hand .--hot away. He two noteworthy exceptions. A Prussian 
hailed me for succor, and. when I asked stalked up in front of a car filled with 
him where he was hurt, said, "Nothing Zouaves, ami showed them the bullet- 
Imt a little scratch in the hand, and holes in his overcoat, they looking on 
another in the lee-. But I made him sternly. Again, a blundering German 
cold, the red-breeches, — he won't do it surgeon cried out against treating the 
again ! " .Most of these Bavarians were enemy so well. Put no one could have 
light-haired, blue-eyed boys, fresh and believed the Germans so emotional and 
pure from the world, but ferocious as excitable as this throng of civilians 
tigers in battle. These boys had heard proved itself to lie in Frankfort. The 
before leaving Bavaria that the Turcos spectacle of one stout Frenchman sup- 
carried knives, and despatched the par- porting a poor Bavarian lad, who was 
tially wounded with them. One whole shot through the face, and was evidently 
regiment, therefore, provided itself with fast sinking, brought forth a storm of 
tin' short. Hat knives made in the moun- sobs from the ladies, and strong men 

tain, of Fpper Bavaria. Their colonel shed tears. We had i r charge one 

heard of this, and commanded them to Frenchman who had been wounded three 

leave the CUtlery behind, whereupon they times, being shot once through the body. 

refused to march until they were threat- That he was alive at all was a miracle; 

ened with sharp punishment unless they but he persisted in being taken out of 

immediately obeyed. the ear and allowed to walk across to sit 

In this railway station at Frankfort down in the fresh air. He was sur- 

Frenchraen generally received all alone rounded by a dozen Germans, who ran 

the line better care than the Prussians, hither and yon to procure whatever he 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



needed, and tears ran down their faces 
when lie was put upon a stretcher and 
carried away to the hospital, the surgeon 
declaring that he could not last the day 
out. The Frenchman and German who 
had lain on the wet earth together all 
night, with the voire of the wind and the 
rain, and the shrieks of dying men, pro- 
claiming to them the necessity of peace 
and good-will, shook hands as they 
parted to go to different hospitals in 
Frankfort. The spectacle was impres- 
sive and suggestive. 

" Voyez-VOUS '. " said one French officer 
to me, '• these Prussians fire at very 
short range. They keep advancing, 
though it seems certain death, and yet 
they always aim deliberately. They 
have lost double the killed that we have, 
but there are not so many badly wounded 
Germans as French. The Bavarians 
clubbed their muskets, — the rascals! — 
and they were as bad as our Turcos to beat 
oil'." There was a tragedy in epitome 
in one of the railway carriages, where a 
tall and handsome Hanoverian officer, 
who was accused — I know not whether 
rightly or wrongly — of having given in- 
telligence to the enemy, was being taken 
under guard to Berlin, where, if the ac- 
cusation were proved against him, I 
dare say his stay upon earth was very 
short. 

When the wounded were all cared for. 
and the train had backed out of the 
station, 1, with the other civilians, was 
relieved from service, being dismissed in 
half-military fashion. Next day I con- 
tinued my return journey to France. 
The drain of the gigantic mobilization 
was beginning to tell upon the country. 
There were but few horses in the streets. 
I shall not soon forget the droll mixture 
of pathos and humor with which one old 
gentleman told me, " My two sons and 
my two best horses are now in France. 



God help me ! " In one street in Frank- 
fort 1 saw, at a very early hour in the 
morning, a regiment of rather rustic- 
looking young men march in and ground 
arms. The commanding officer, passing 
down the line on a tour of inspection, 
was dissatisfied with the appearance of 
some of the troops, and. stepping up 
briskly to the offenders, he gave them 
sharp blows over the head and face, 
to which they submitted with the lamb- 
like placidity of men who could not help 
themselves. To this beating and thrash- 
ing in the German army I soon became 
accustomed, seeing plenty of it during 
the long period of the siege. 1 remember, 
on the day of the capitulation of the 
forts around Paris, being struck with the 
peculiar brutality of one fat officer, who, 
reviewing a line of troops on a hilly 
street in Ecouen, caned and struck the 
erring ones so vigorously that I wondered 
they did not step out of the ranks and 
riddle him with bullets, lint it was pre- 
cisely this quality of passive obedience 
and endurance, of submission to punish- 
ment for the smallest infringement of 
detail, which made the German army so 
dangerous and powerful an instrument 
of invasion. 

In the fields the women were busily 
al work. The few men who had not 
been summoned across the frontier were 
miles away with cattle and forage teams 
providing for the army. .Most of the 
peasants in the sections through which 
the armies had passed had received ten 
or fifteen soldiers nightly for a period of 
two weeks. The compensation for bil- 
leting is very small, and the effect on 
the poor people in the little dorl's must 
be quite ruinous, although they never 
complained. Each soldier on the march 
received every day half a pound of meat, 
such vegetables as could conveniently 
be got, bread, black coffee, a little 



2 1 8 



EUliOrE IS STORM AND CALM. 



brandy, and some cigars, — always ci- 
gars. The " tobacco cars," after the 

capitulation of Strasl rg, ran regularly 

from the towns beyond the Rhine up in 
Lagny, the point from which supplies 
were forwarded to the vast mass of 
troops composing the three lines stretch- 
ing around l'aris. In the Held the fur- 
nishing of provisions is organized by 
battalions. Each company has its 
cooks, who follow it everywhere, pro- 
viding their larder in the adjacent cities 
or villages or by force or requisition in 
the enemy's country. Anything classa- 
ble as luxury the soldier must procure 
of his company's cooks, paying cash in 
:dl cases. Tobacco was never classed as 
:i luxury. The French were amazed 
that the Germans ordered it for oflieers 
and men by requisition ; ami this small 
exaction incensed them more, 1 have 
sometimes thought, than the payment of 
tin- five milliards. !n bivouac each sol- 
dier usually cooks his own supper, — if 
there is time for any cooking at all, — and 
1 have often seen rows of little fireplaces 
dug in the banks extending for twoor three 
miles along the road. The cavalry-meu 
carry strapped behind their saddles rolls 
of coarse bread, which both they and 
their horses eat. A\" hen a long halt is 
made, thousands of cavalry-men will be 
seen cutting bits of bread and feeding 

the horses. 

Tin' most miraculous feature of the 
German military discipline which I ob- 
served during the mobilization was the 
celerity with which troops, and espe 
chilly cavalry, were disembarked from 
railway trains. At Landau we saw a 
regiment of cavalry, which had jour- 
neyed fifty-five hours steadily from 
I'osen, cleared from the train in eleven 
minutes. It was as if by magic. The 
moment the carriages stopped, men ami 
horses came out with automatic precision 



and soon were bivouacked on a plain 
beside the station as tranquilly as if they 
had been there a week. While the battle 
of Woerth was at its height fresh regi- 
ments were being brought up and landed 
with wonderful quickness close to the 
scene of action. The Germans are 
justly proud of their railway system, so 
admirably ami adroitly planned for 
concentrating the nation on any frontier 
which is menaced. The French under 
the Empire had begun a system radiat- 
ing from Chalons towards the frontier, 
and which, so far as it went, was as good 
as that of Germany. But when it was 
well under way, the corruption and 
negligence of the governing [lowers in- 
fected the military administration, and 
the system was never completed. 

From Frankfort I returned, via Co- 
logne and Brussels, to Paris, where 
everything was in wild confusion. Every 
second man met upon the street or in 
the shops or restaurants was in uniform. 
Every stranger was supposed to be a 
spv. The French, ordinarily, in outward 
manifestation at least, the most courteous 
and obliging of European peoples to 
foreigners, had suddenly become infected 
with suspicion. At the lirst this was 
amusing, but presently it became in- 
tolerable. It was dangerous to tell 
French friends or acquaintances the 
truth. Thev received the news of the 
battle of Woerth and the retreat there- 
from with a scepticism which was 
painful to witness. Although the news 
from their own agents continued the 
truth, they still maintained that it was 
from German sources. An occasional 
straggling telegram from the Emperor 
was published broadcast; in large anil 
little journals; but it was noticed that 
none of these despatches talked of 

victory. " Disorder in Paris," said a 
circular published early in August, 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



211) 



" would be victory for the Prussians." 
The fear of a Communistic outbreak 
was already plainly defined, and with 
reason. Night after night tumultuous 
crowds went to the ministries to sing the 
"Marseillaise" and the " Girondins," 
and to ask for news. Now they heard 
of the taking of Landau, now of the 
total defeat of the Prussians, and now 
of a vigorous French advance to the 
Rhine. But, as a Frenchman of dis- 
tinction has confessed, at first no one 
was willing to believe these rumors. A 
kind of secret presentiment restrained 
even the most confident ; but after a 
time they were carried away on the top 
of popular enthusiasm. Then came the 
first news of the defeat, brought by 
foreigners returning, like myself, from 
Germany, or by letters which escaped 
with difficulty from the clutches of the 
officers of the Black Cabinet, as the 
Imperial Inspection Bureau of the post- 
office was called. The Emperor witli 
his broken phrases — "Everything may 
be right yet ; " "The enemy has ceased 
pursuit;" " The night was calm;" 
" The river was in good order," — began 
to annoy and worry the capricious 
Parisians. At the first news of the 
defeat, the Empress had returned from 
St. Cloud, where she had been sum- 
mering, directly to Paris, and assembled 
the Council of Ministers, and sent forth 
a proclamation which she signed as the 
Empress Regent. Although this docu- 
ment was extremely clever, it displeased 
everybody. This foreign woman, who 
spoke with such lightness of the tlag of 
France, suddenly became obnoxious. 
The ladies who would have fallen at her 
feet a few weeks before now criticised 
her openly and boldly. Then came new 
decrees placing Paris in a state of siege, 
incorporating into the National Guard 
all valid citizens between the age of 



thirty and forty, and convoking the 
Senate and the Corps Liqislatif. After 
this, Minister Ollivier thought lit to 
issue a proclamation announcing that 
the arming of the nation and the defense 
of Paris were being prepared in great 
haste. The minister added that all 
those who were anxious to have 
weapons had only to present themselves 
at the Bureau of Enlistment, and they 
would at once be sent to the frontier. 

The Corps Ligislatif met on the 9th 
of August, and M. Schneider, the presi- 
dent, had begun to read the decree of 
convocation, as this was an extraordi- 
nary session, and had just finished these 
words: "Napoleon, by the Grace of 
God and by the National Will, Emperor 
of the French," — ■ when a prolonged and 
singular cry burst forth from the whole 
assemblage of legislators. It, was as if 
the nation, by the voice of its represen- 
tatives, suddenly protested against the 
absurdity of this statement, as to the 
means of Napoleon's selection to his 
position of Emperor. M. Schneider, 
who was a man of great dignity, was so 
much astonished and so indignant, that 
he crossed his arms over his breast and 
stood looking for some time defiantly at 
the assembly. Presently lie finished the 
reading of the decree ; but it, was noticed 
that he omitted, as if he were very much 
disinclined to give it forth, the reading 
of the name of the Empress, signed at, 
the bottom of the document. Minister 
Ollivier next tried to make a speech ; but 
the Republican Opposition was in force 
that day, and interrupted him with such 
violence, and clamored so for his imme- 
diate disappearance from the ministry, 
that he stammered and blundered, and, 
in his trouble, spoke of an army of four 
hundred and fifty millions of soldiers, 
when he meant four hundred and fifty 
thousand. He continued speaking, al- 



2-211 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

thougb shouts of: "Less talk and the Chamber voted a law calling under 

more action ;" " We have no more the flag in the active army all valid citi- 

coufidence in you ; " " It is you alone zens between twenty and thirty-live 

who have losi the country," — almost years of age, and increasing from four 

drowned his voice, which was trembling to twenty-five millions of francs the 

with mingled fear and indignation, credit which had been accorded by the 

.lulcs Favre succeeded the unfortunate law of July 24th to families of soldiers 

minister in the tribune, and made one of the regular army, and of the Mobile 

of his most eloquent speeches, finishing Guard. General Count De Palikao, 

with offering a resolution for the im- whose most brilliant exploit had been 

mediate organization of the National the sacking of the summer palace at 

Guard, and the distribution of arms to Pekin, became the new chief of the 

every inhabitant of Paris who demanded ministry, which was still Imperialistic 

it for the defense of his hearth-stone, in flavor. M. De Palikao has been very 

This was a terrible measure for the well described by a brilliant French 

Empire, since the possession of weapons dramatic critic, who wrote an excellent 

in the people's hands meant the over- book on the siege, M. Francisque Sarcey, 

turning of the Imperial dynasty. Pres- in the following words : '-The Count De 

ident Schneider protested feebly, that Palikao was a wily old gentleman, who 

the resolution was unconstitutional in its had no trouble in making us all dupes, 

character, when a voice in a corner was He had noticed the bad effects that the 

heard. " We are not considering the boasting and lying remarks of the fallen 

constitution : we are talking about sav- ministry had produced, so he adopted 

ing the country." just the opposite method. He gave no 

The Ollivier ministry, which had been news at all of the military operations, 

built upon lying promises, and was the Every day. after the session, he took 

work of incompetent hands, crumbled to aside two or three of his familiars, and 

pieces at this session. A cruel Older of mysteriously whispered in their ears 

the Day thus worded — -'The Chamber, these enigmatic words : 'If Paris knew 

decided to sustain a cabinet capable of what I know, it would illuminate this 

organizing the defense of the country, evening.' Or, when a member of the 

passes lo the Order of the Day" — was Left, impatient at his silence, asked of 

adopted by a great majority; and M. the Chamber some more positive infor- 

Ollivier went home feeling that he had mation, he would answer. 'I can say 

lived in vain. Ample proof of his un- nothing, except that everything is going 

popularity was given a few minutes on well. I can speak no longer to-day. 

afterwards, when M. Jules Simon was I have had a bullet in my chest for 

passing through the Place de la Con- twenty years, and it prevents nic from 

corde. Returning home from the session making long speeches.' " In this ephem- 

his carriage was stopped, and the crowds eral ministry, which was destined to 

clamored for news. " Citizens," said disappear in the great, glad, and pacific 

M. Simon. " I should like to have much tumult of a few days later, M. Clement 

good news to give you, but I have only Duvernois, a journalist of some distinc- 

one bit. — the Ollivier ministry exists no tion, who had been won over to the 

longer." A great shout of joy went up Empire, and who had been paid enor- 

froni tin' waiting crowds. Next day, mous sums, as the Imperial documents 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



221 



at the Tuileries afterwards showed, 
for writing up the Empire in his journal, 
was minister of agriculture. Barou 
Jerome David, devoted to the Empire, 
and a determined enemy of liberty in all 
its forms, was in a prominent post ; and 
the ministry of Foreign Affairs was held 
by the Prince de la Tour d'Auvergne. 
But the populace cared for nothing but 
the ministry of war, and poor Count De 
l'alikao led a sad life until he was dis- 
missed out of public notice by the decla- 
ration of the Republic. 

The first definite outcropping of the 
Commune was in mid- August, when an 
energetic attack was made on some 
firemen's barracks on the Boulevard de 
la Villette ; and the insurgents were 
almost successful in getting possession 
of some rifles, but, failing in this, re- 
treated upon Belleville, calling the citi- 
zens all along the roads to arms. Oddly 
enough they were mistaken for Prus- 
sians, for the women and children of the 
Belleville quarter were firmly persuaded 
that the Germans were close at hand, 
the moment they saw guns and pistols 
and signs of fighting. In this foolish, 
almost criminal effort to provoke civil 
war the veteran revolutionist Blanqui, 
who had siient the greater part of his 
life in prison, was implicated. The chief 
actors in this little insurrection were 
court-martialled, and six of them were 
sentenced to be shot ; most of the others 
to different terms of imprisonment. 
Miehelet and George Sand both protested 
against the execution. During the sec- 
ond week in August, the Parisians 
managed to catch a veritable Prussian 
spy, after having arrested innumerable 
foreigners in their search for spies ; and 
this officer was shot in one of the court- 
yards of the Military School on the 
Champ de Mars on the 27th of August, 
at six o'clock in the morning. lie boldly 



declared that he had been sent by his 
government to secure the plans of for- 
tresses and the preparations of defense 
in the south of France, and, a mo- 
ment before he was shot, he slowly 
pronounced the words, '••Fur Voter- 
land," 

Meantime scattered and imperfect 
news of the gigantic battles around 
Met/, (•.•line into the capital ; but it was 
so indisputably true that the French had 
in the majority of these encounters held 
their own bravely and inflicted tremen- 
dous losses on the enemy that these 
later reports were not considered dis- 
couraging. The Parisians of all classes 
lived in constant expectation of a de- 
spatch which should announce the crush- 
ing of the Prussian invaders between 
two great French armies and the close 
of the campaign in the hasty retreat of 
the Germans across the frontier which 
they had violated. M. de Girardin 
wrote in his journal about conducting 
the Germans back to the Rhine with the 
blows of musket-butts on their backs. 
The only man who seemed to have a 
clear and definite notion of the situation, 
and to have the courage to speak the 
truth about it at all times, was the aged 
]M. Thiers. He became a member of the 
Committee of Defense, on the 27th of 
August. I sometimes think that he 
had private sources of information, 
which he did not avow, for he was cer- 
tainly better informed than nine-tenths 
of the politicians who surrounded him. 
When the question of sending MaeMahon 
with his army of Chalons into the north- 
cast was discussed, he spoke out ear- 
nestly against it. " This," he said, " is 
taking our last army and sending it to 
perish in the Ardennes. Von lane got 
one marshal blockaded." he told them ; — 
" you will soon have two." 

The discussion as to the movements 



222 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



of the armies in the field was renewed 
with much violence i'<>r several days after 
this debate of the 27th; and M.Thiers 
has [eft it ou record that, while he was 
making an energetic speech about, one 
o'clock on the morning of Saturday, the 
.",d of September, M. Jerome David took 
him by the hand and whispered in his 
ear, ■■ M. Thiers, do not go any farther 
at present. 1 would like to speak with 
you a moment." The session of the 
Council was at once brought to a close, 
and M. David and M. Thiers stepped 
down into the street together, when the 
former said, " The Emperor is a pris- 
oner; MacMahon is mortally wounded." 
M. Thiers stood quite still for a few min- 
utes, struck with t sternation, and 

quite stupefied ; but ho could, without 
fear of reproach, truly have said, ,L I 
could have told you that this would bap- 
pen." 

In the morning a Council of Minis- 
ters was held at the Tuilcries, and a 
despatch, coming through the Havas 
Agency, brought the news from Brussels ; 
but it was carefully kept from the people. 
There was a not her session at live o'clock, 
and then the Empress, who had refused 
up to that time to believe the unlucky 
truth, herself laid before the minister (Ik 
despatch of the Emperor, saying, "The 
army has capitulated, and 1 am a pris- 
oner." All this time, the populace was 
rejoicing at the Stock Exchange over 
telegrams announcing that the French 
army had gained another advantage upon 
the enemy ; but the popular sentiment 
was reflected in a remark made tome on 
that morning by a, Parisian, who said, 

with a bitter smile. " If we gain such 

great victories, why don't the generals 
send a few prisoners to the capital'" 
This was Satuiday. On Friday evening, 
as I walked through the city. I felt that 
some great calamity was overwhelming 



Paris. A thrill of excited suspense was 
visible on all sides. Everybody bought 
papers, papers, papers, and read the 
flaming editorials, printed in huge letters, 
with a line and a half to each paragraph, 
until they were tired. The theatres were 
deserted, despite Madame A gar's attrac- 
tive rendering of the " Marseillaise." 
Even the Theatre Francais hail but a 
slight audience. The environs of the 

< 'orps Lfyislatifvrere crowded with news- 
hungry people. On Saturday, about 
noon, numerous processions of workmen, 
moving quietly, were observed with 
some apprehension. But these people 
explained that they were organizing 
themselves into military companies for 
the defence of the city. Now and then 
a man was heard violently declaiming 
against the government because it had 

not given the people guns. " Here are 
< • i •_■ 1 1 1, hundred thousand men in Paris," 
said one speaker, "native to the soil, 
strong-armed, intensely patriotic, asking 
for guns to drive the invaders from the 
doors, and the government says, • You 
must fold your arms and be shot down.' " 

Pate in the afternoon, the terrible news 
began to be known. First came a report, 
which ran through the cafes ami along 
the boulevards like a. Hash of lightning, 
that. Belgian neutrality had been vio- 
lated, thai Flench and Prussians had 
fought on Belgian soil, ami that, new 
complications were likely to arise. 

Presently, pale-faced messengers be- 
gan to arrive from the Place de la Con- 
corde at. the great universal rendezcous 
of the Parisian loafers of distinction, the 
section between the Cafe de la Pais and 
the Cafe Riche, announcing that the 
Corps Letjislatif were going into secret 
session ; that the whole of MacMahon's 
army had been taken ; that he himself 
had been shot through the body; that 
General De Wimpffen had disgracefully 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



a?, 



capitulated ; and, finally, that the Em- 
peror was a, prisoner. 

Meantime the Empress had sent M. 
Merimee, a literary man of infinite 
talent, and who was her intimate friend, 
to supplicate M. Thiers 
to take the government 
into his hands. As M. 
Merimee did notsueceed, 
she sent in M. de Metter- 
nich ; but he had no bet- 
ter luck with the fiery 
old man, whose diminu- 
tive figure was now lie- 
ginning to assume the 
importance it deserved in 
the eyes of his disorgan- 
ized-countrymen. MM. 
Jules Simon, Jules Favre, 
Picard, and others urged 
M. Thiers to accept the 
Empress's proposition 
when he came down to 
I he session of the Corps 
Ldgislatif on the 3d. But 
M. Thiers was deaf to all 
entreaties, and seemed 
to be looking beyond 
with prophetic gaze to 
greater events, for which 
he wished to save all his 
stock of strength. At 
the session, the Count De 
Palikao astonished all his 
colleagues by the refresh- 
ingly cool manner in 
which he climbed into the 
tribune, and announced 
that MarshalBazaine,after a vigorous fight 
of eight or nine hours, had been obliged 
to retreat under tin- walls of Metz. He 
added, as if it had been a matter of 
trifling consequence, that there had been 
a battle at Sedan, " and we have thrown 
a part of the Prussian army into the 
river Meuse ; but finally we were, it 



appears, overwhelmed by numbers, 
and some few of our soldiers have been 
crowded over into the Belgian ter- 
ritory." This effrontery was speedily 
unmasked by Jules Favre, who said that 




THE END OF THE EMriRE. — 
ASSAULT BY POLICE ON 
CITIZENS IN THE BOULE- 
VARD BOOTNTROUVELLE. 



the time had come to know where the 
government was. •• Where." he said, 
" is the Emperor? Is he in commu- 
nication with his ministers? Can he 
give orders to them?" Tin 1 minister of 
war answered "No." ••Then." said 
Jules Favre with his lines! irony, "the 
answer that the Minister of War has 



224 EUROPE l.\ STORM AND CALM. 

given mo suffices, and we may leave mediate consideration for the following 

this great question out of the debate, motion: — 

the government having ceased to exist." 

Here the president of the assembly •• ■ Article l. Louis Napoleon Bonaparte 

thought it bis duty to protest against ■•»'' his dynasty are declared divested of the 

such words, whereupon Jules Favre powers that the Constituti lad conferred upon 

turned upon him like a lion, and said : , , 

* "'Article 2. then' shall be named l>v 

"Protest as much as you wish, Mr. the Corps Ugislaiif a government committee 

President. Protest against fate, which composed of a certain number of members 

has betrayed us ; deny events; say that taken from the majority, who shall be invested 

we an- victors; do as von like; but with the powers to govern, and who shall have 

what we want now, and what is indis- for their ex P ress " ,issi " n resistance «" «'»-' 

. , , . . ., „ ,.ii uttermost to the invaders, and the delivery of 

pensable a in 1 wise, is the ettacing ot all , „ . , . . 

1 a the territory out ot the enemy s hands, 

parties before one name representing '"Articles. General Trochu is main- 
Paris, a military name, the name of a tained in liis post as Governor-General of the 
man who can take in hand the defense city of Paris.' " 
of the country." These remarks pro- 
duced great agitation, and shortly This motion, signed by all the members 
afterwards the session broke up, after of the Republican Opposition, was at 
having voted a uight sitting. first received in profound silence; but 
It was one o'clock in the morning when M. Favre, before he left the tribune, 
the deputies met again. Outside the recommended the deputies to sleep over 
palace of the Corps LGgislatif, thousands it, and " to-morrow," he said, "at noon, 
upon thousands of men and women were we shall have the honor to give you the 
waiting, — waiting for they knew not imperious reasons which appear to us to 
what, too anxious, lest the next few recommend the adoption of the meas- 
bours might bring the horrors of civil ure to overv good patriot." The night 
war, for it w.as no .secret that Blauqui, session had lasted just twenty minutes. 
Delescluze, Felix l'yat, Vermorel, Mil- "It seemed," said one of the men who 
here, and others, who were destined to was present, "as long as a century." 
be so famous or infamous in the Insur- A singular thing happened on this 
rectiou of 1871, were hard at work tryiug morning of the 4th of September: as 
to organize a popular revolt. Without Jules Favre was going home, the crowd 
any preliminary rhetoric, the Minister followed him, shouting out iusults for the 
of War made an official announcement fallen Empire, and clamoring for tin- 
to the deputies of the capitulation of declaration of the downfall of the dy- 
the army, and the fact that the Emperor nasty. When Jules Favre had passed 
bad delivered himself up as prisoner, along, the crowd remained shouting, dis- 
Without making any suggestion or cussing, singing, and quarrelling, until 
apology he stepped down from the the police thought it necessary to clear 
tribune and took his scat. Jules Favre the people away from the Pont de la 
immediately arose, and, taking the place Concorde. This provoked the people, 
left vacant by the Minister of War, asked who were already in a. state of tremen- 
peiinission to make a proposition. As dous excitement; there was some rough 
soon as he had received permission, he handling of the police agents ; an alarm 
said, "We ask of the Chamber im- was sounded ; the gates of the Tuileries, 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



225 



the Place du Carrousel, and the Louvre people, sword and club in hand. There 
were closed ; the troops were confined to were numerous victims, 
barracks; the agitation reached the "The Empire," said one of the eye- 
grand boulevards, and opposite the witnesses of this affair near the Gym- 
Gymnase Theatre, a squad of police, nase, "was destined to finish as it had 
who evidently thought they were to be begun, — with an attack upou au un- 
attacked, discharged their revolvers into armed mass." 
a dense crowd, and then fell upon the 



2-JC: 



EL'EOPE IX STORM ASD CALM 



{ I ! AFTER TWENTY-FOUR. 



The Declaration of the Republic. — Exciting Scenes on the Place de la Concorde and the Boulevards. — In- 
vasion of the Corps Legielatif. — Gambetta Pronounces the Downfall of the Imperial Family. — The 
Procession to the Hotel de Ville.— The Flight of the Empress. 



QATURDAY night was an anxious 
rJ time for the members of the Repub- 
lican Opposition in the Corps Ltgislatif. 
They plainly saw that they were to be 
left alone to build up a government on 
the ruins into which the Empire had sud- 
denly crumbled, and they dreaded lest 
some sudden excitement, some misunder- 
standing, should bring about civil war 
and anarchy, which the disciples of the 
repressive theory had predicted as certain 
the moment that the weights were re- 
moved. As you cannot touch pitch 
without being defiled, so the Republi- 
cans of ardent convictions and firm 
principles, by the very necessity of neigh- 
borhood during the long period of the 
Empire, had become in sonic measure 
infected with the Imperial notions of 
" order," and they were almost inclined 
to distrust themselves at the moment 
that power was to lie placed in their 
hands. 

Nothing dreadful, however, happened 
during Saturday night. Policemen were 
hustled and bonneted, and some of them 
might have been thrown into the Seine 
had they not. in obedience to the dicta- 
tion of the crowds, thrown away their 
rapiers and fled to their homes to get rid 
of their hated uniforms as soon as 
possible. Pietri, the Imperial Prefect 
of Police, who was almost universally 
execrated, was loudly called for by the 
masses, and, had he been imprudent 
enough to show himself, might have 
been torn to pieces. I heard his name 



mentioned hundreds of times during f 

walk through these excited crowds on 
the Saturday evening in question. Singu- 
larly enough no one seemed to know 
where Pietri was. Some said he was 
with the Empress at the Tuileries ; others 
that he was arrested with Napoleon at 
Sedan, and that the German government 
was to give him the worst fate that could 
befali him, — delivery into the hands of 
those whom he had so long persecuted. 
Foreigners were not much to the taste of 
these crowds, and Americans and Eng- 
lishmen sometimes found themselves 
surrounded by mobs, who insisted on 
hearing them sing a bar of the " Mar- 
sellaise." and shout for the Republic. 
In ease they refused to give these proofs 
of their good-will, they were hustled and 
sometimes carried off to the police sta- 
tions as presumed spies. Many people 
in these throngs had guns, and some 
were armed with revolvers. This wear- 
ing of weapons by people who would 
have considered such a proceeding as 
improper had they been living under a 
different system was adopted as the 
first symptom of liberation from the 
regime which had now been definitely 
condemned, and was soon to lie suc- 
ceeded by a more liberal one. 

The Empire, which had made so many 
objections to letting private citizens bear 
arms or keep them in their houses, had 
in 18G8 done the very thing which ren- 
dered the insurrection of bs71 so easy. 
It had created the National Guard Mo- 



EUROPE IX STORM AXP CALM. 



221 



bile, which was about five hundred and the capital. There were comprised with- 

fifty thousand strong, divided into bat- in the limits of this organization all 

talions, companies, and batteries. This classes of society, — the rich shop-keeper 

force was created by Napoleon III. on and professional men of the Rue de 

the proposition of Marshal Niel, who la Paix and the Opera Quarter, the house 

was then Minister of War. and in virtue owners and the retired merchants of tin 




THE IMPERIAL POLICE PROTECTED BY THE REPUBLICAN GUARD. 



of a law voted by the Corps Ligislatif 
on the 1st of February, 1868. The 
maximum effective of each battalion of 
this National Guard was two thousand 
men, forming eight companies of two 
hundred and fifty men each, at the time 
of the downfall of the Empire ; and for 
nearly the whole of the period of the 
siege of Paris and the Commune, almost 
three hundred thousand men of this Na- 
tional Guard were within the walls of 



Place Vendome and the Champs Ely sees. 
as well as the half-educated and am- 
bitious artisans of Belleville and La 
Yillette. These elements, hostile to each 
other, — the same elements, which by their 
inharmonious clashing in previous periods 
of trouble had caused bloodshed and 
temporary anarchy, — ■ were to be cooped 
up in a besieged city for long months, 
their really splendid forces never to be 
utilized against the enemy because their 



228 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



commander feared that it' they won a 
battle against the Germans they would 
turn ahuut and proclaim a government of 
their own in Paris. It is not astonishing 
that these classes, hating, almost abomi- 
nating each other, finding themselves 
equally well armed, and having had their 
senses excited by the continuous specta- 
cle of the ravages of war, should have 
come together in hostile collision after 
the great struggle against the enemy was 
over, and while the wreckage of the war 
was being cleared away. 

Representatives of the upper and of 
the lower classes of Parisian society, 
equipped in their uniforms of the Na- 
tional Guard, and with their muskets on 
their backs, were very numerous among 
the crowds on Saturday night. The 
property-holding class was on the alert, 
and had taken possession of all the ap- 
proaches to the Corps Ligislatif, and 
managed to keep its ground on Sunday 
morning, although M. Jules Simon tells 
us that when lie came to pick his way- 
through the throng waiting in front of 
the Palais Bourbon, at eleven o'clock on 
the morning of the 4th of September, the 
adherents of Blauqui and Delescluze, the 
Communists, in short, were very thick 
about the gates and door-ways. In the 
eyes of these passionate and vindictive 
apostles of a socialistic government, the 
members of the Left, who were very pop- 
ular among all other classes, were con- 
demned as " Moderates," and as men to 
be despised. Many an artisan, who 
afterwards appeared behind the barri- 
cades of the Commune, hurled scornful 
reproaches at Simon and his colleagues 
as they made their way into the mid-day 
session. 

The impression on the grand boule- 
vards, which were blocked with immense 
throngs of the wealthy and prosperous 
class on Sunday morning, was that there 



would be civil war before nightfall. To 
walk through these collections of chatter- 
ing, gesticulating, pale-faced people, and 
to hear them furiously disputing each 
other's notions, enabled one to place 
but moderate reliance upon their com- 
bined action, if such action weri' nec- 
essary. The enemy was at the door ; 
Mont Valerien was insufficiently armed ; 
General Vinoy was coming to Paris 
with an army which must be taken care 
of; the cartridges in the Imperial arse- 
nals were tilled with sand : what was 
to be done? Would the movement for 
a Republic degenerate into mere noise, 
and bloodshed, and stupid efferves- 
cence of ignorant enthusiasm? A little 
before noon, on this 4th of September, 
the papers made the announcement of 
the Emperor's surrender, very generally, 
and nearly every man and woman whom 
one met on the boulevards or on the Place 
de la Concorde had purchased a paper, 
and was reading it intently. There was 
no laughter, but little noise, and no 
jostling. The crowds grew in numbers 
momentarily. Every one was in an at- 
titude of suspense, to which was added a 
certain fear, the fear of that spectre 
which had arisen so many times with 
bloody hands to push back that liberty, 
so longed for, but seemingly so unat- 
tainable in France. 

Jules Simon says that at noon on the 
4th of September a single misunder- 
standing, an angry movement on the 
part of a commander of any troops, 
would have been sufficient to occasion 
a general massacre. " What we had to 
avoid at any price," he says, " was 
civil war, the people of France against 
the French, while the soil was in- 
vaded by the stranger. This was the 
opinion of the Left, who, felt that 
the throne had tumbled to pieces; and 
it was also the opinion of the majority, 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



229 



who understood that the throne could 
no longer he defended, and who had 
ceased to wish that it might. ]t was 
doubtless this thought, that there was 
no longer any Empire, and that the 
supreme duty was to avoid a collision, 
which tempted the deputies of the ma- 
jority to demand that the regular troops 
should be removed from the Palais 
Bourbon." 

This measure having been executed, 
the National Guard was placed in pos- 
session. The officers and soldiers of 
the regular troops were in a delicate 
position. They had heard that the Re- 
public had already been proclaimed at 
Lyons and Marseilles, and that there the 
army had fraternized with the people, 
but they were still under the shadow of 
their oath of allegiance to the Empire, 
and, ignorantof the real course of events 
beyond the walls of Paris, they were in- 
capable of forming a speedy decision. 
Still, at the Napoleon Barracks, the 
crowd which had cried out " Vive I" R4- 
publique!" to the soldiers at the win- 
dows was answered by the same words. 
A little later on, a regiment which had 
been sent to the square of the Hotel de 
Ville disbanded, turned the butts of its 
muskets into the air, and mingled with 
the crowd. This was soon heard on the 
Place de la Concorde, and hundreds of 
soldiers broke ranks and disappeared 
right and left. 

Now came in long procession thou- 
sands of workmen and workwomen 
from La Villette, the women marching 
arm-in-arm with the men, singing loudly, 
and generally carrying a flag in one 
hand. Trieolored badges began to ap- 
pear, and were sold by thousands, the 
boldest putting them on at once, others 
carrying them in their hands, as if wait- 
ing for a decisive moment. I saw a 
young man climb on to the statue of 



Strasbourg, in the Place de la Concorde, 
and crown the rather gloomy figure 
which personates the ravished city with 
laurel. This was the origin of the cus- 
tom which has since been so religiously 
maintained — that of decorating with 
wreaths and immortelles, with flags, and 
with crowns of laurel, this statue year by 
year. 

Along the great Place the rumor 
ran that the Corps Ligidatif was to 
receive the abdication of the Empress at 
one o'clock. " Why," said a huge mar- 
ket-woman, dressed in her best, and 
with an umbrella which was huge enough 
to cover a dozen people, '• why should 
the woman abdicate when we have abdi- 
cated her? " 

Every half hour or so the crowd surged 
back from side to side, leaving a path 
clear for regiments just coming in from 
Lyons, or Turcos, newly arrived from 
Algeria, — men who had been hurried up 
to be thrown against the Prussians, and 
who were destined ingloriously to remain 
inside of Paris or just outside its walls 
for months thereafter. Towards one 
o'clock, ten thousand men from the 
Faubourg St. Martin came down the 
grand boulevards, each man witli a gun 
on his shoulder, and the shop-keepers 
immediately began to put up their shut- 
ters. Inside, in the great court-yard of 
the Palais Bourbon, the members of 
the Opposition and of the majority stood 
trembling with excitement, while Jules 
Favre, with his long black hair thrown 
back, and his brows covered with per- 
spiration, made a tremendous radical 
speech, intended to ingratiate the blue 
and white bloused men swarming up to his 
extemporized platform, which they at 
last broke down. The Deputies were 
informed that at least one hundred and 
fifty thousand men were assembled on 
the Place de la Concorde ; that fully 



230 



EUROPE IN STORM A. YD CALM. 



one-fourth of them were armed ; that 
the faubourgs wore out; that blood 
was up; that the people hail come 
to claim its own peaceably, or with 
clamor and bloodshed, as they might 
decide. 

In the great Salle des Pas Perdus, 
Jules Favre towered up above the other 
deputies, who were inspired to calmness 
by the serenity of his faee. It was ob- 
served that many members of the late 
triumphant and Imperial Right were 
missing. Many had tied under various 
pretexts; some, that they hail gone to 
learn the real facts of the affair at 
Sedan, others, to look after their prop- 
erty, which was in danger, as it lay on 
the line of the German army's march. 
But few of them had, like the members 
of the Senate, the courage to disappear 
without any bravado. By-and-by the 
doors of the legislative hall were thrown 
open, and the Left entered tranquilly in a 
body, with Father Raspail blowing his 
nose very like a sonorous trumpet of de- 
fiance. The session was opened shortly 
after one o'clock, aud M. De Palikao, 
with his usual coolness, stepped briskly 
into the tribune, and proposed that a 
council of government of National De- 
fense should be constituted, consisting 
of five members, eaeli member being 
named by an absolute majority of the 
Corps Li'ijishitif; that the ministers 
should lie named under the auspices of 
the members of this Council : and that 
General Count De Palikao should be 
the Lieutenant-general of the Councils. 
The tempest which this piece of ef- 
frontery raised is better imagined than 
described. The uproarious and con- 
temptuous laughter with which De Pali- 
kao's project was finally greeted must 
have convinced him that it would be in- 
judicious to press it. The Left to,,!; 
immediate advantage of the situation, 



and, after a speech of Jules Favre, M. 
Thiers offered his project of law, which 
was, " that, in view of the present circum- 
stances, the Chamber shall name a com- 
mission for government and national 
defense, and the constitutional assem- 
bly shall be convoked as soon as events 
will permit." 

It was at this moment that Gambetta, 
who had not played a. very conspicuous 
part in the proceedings of the last few 
days, appeared upon the scene, and in a 
vigorous speech insisted that the Cham- 
ber should decide upon M. Thiers's prop- 
osition forthwith. He took into his 
hands the business of the day. As the 
result of his speech the Chamber voted 
urgency on the propositions, and sent 
them before a committee. Meantime 
the session was suspended. It is prob- 
able that on this Committee of National 
Defense certain members of the old 
Imperial party would have been placed, 
if. while the proposition was under con- 
sideration, the crowd had not stepped in 
and given the final tumble to the card- 
house of the Empire. 

The manifestation which ended in the 
invasion of the Corps Legislalif was be- 
gun by a company of National Guards, 
who were standing near the iron railing 
in front of the palace, and who cried out 
•■ La Dicliiance! Ln DMifoince!" or the 
impeachment of the Imperial family. 
While they were shouting, they beckoned 
to other National Guards nearer the 
bridge over the Seine at this point to 
come and join them. The Municipal 
cavalry, which were posted at the en- 
trance of the bridge on the quay, drew 
its sabres, and for a moment there was 
danger of a sanguinary collision. But 
the battalions of the National Guard 
kept crowding on and on. without re- 
gard for the naked sabres, and the crowd 
pressed behind them, now* murmuring. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



231 



The soldiers saw that it was dangerous 
to resist them. 

At the head of the National Guard 
were many men of distinction and posi- 
tion, among them M. Edmond Adam, 
later a senator and influential member of 
the Republican party. The hum rose 
slowly and almost majestically until it 
burst out into a great cry of " Vive la 
Ripitblique 1 " This was carried back- 
ward across the Place de la Concorde, 
and up the boulevards, the people at 
some distance from the scene naturally 
supposing that the Republic 
had been declared. Pres- 
ently, the doors of the Legis- 
lative Palace were burst open, 
and the impetuous 
throngs rushed in, 
pushing aside, as if 
the\ - had been made 
of straw, the few 
guardians at the doors. 
The president, M. 
Schneider, pale as a 
ghost, stood looking 
down on the motley 
collection of individ- 
uals, who suddenly had filled the 
space in front of him. But he said 
no word. 

M. Cremieux, a Republican, univer- 
sally respected by all classes and very 
popular among the masses, popped up in 
his place, and said, " My dear friends, 
you all know me. I am Citizen Cre- 
mieux. "We are very busy, just now." 
But it was not M. Cremieux's day, for 
there was a roar of "Vive la Ripub- 
lique!" and he sat down, looking some- 
what disconcerted. In the galleries, 
which were now thronged with men in 
blouses, and with men in broadcloth, the 
same cry of " Vice la Ripublique" was 
heard, and the graceful foklsof atricolored 
flag were waved above the assembly. 



Gambetta next came forward, and 
with a few skilful sentences brought 
order out of this chaos, which promised 




THE PRESIDENT OF TTIE CORPS LKiilSLATIP 
WATCHING THE INVASION. 

to be so dangerous. " Citizens," he 
said, " yon can now offer a grand spec- 
tacle — that of people uniting order with 
liberty." He then gave a quick and 



2:52 



EUROPE IN STORM AXE CALM. 



picturesque sketch of what the assembly 
expected to do, and suggested that a 
group of citizens should take the re- 
sponsibility of maintaining order into 
ils own hands, so that the deputies might 
not lie disturbed in the discharge of their 
duties. President Schneider thought it 
proper to second the proposition of 
Gambetta ; but when he added that he 
thought he had also rendered to the 
country and to liberty service enough to 
have the right to address them, there 
were derisive cheers, which were echoed 
through the halls outside, and which left 
him no whit in doubt as to his loss of 
prestige. Presently, the great door op- 
posite the tribune, which had detied the 
efforts of the invaders, opened, and the 
deputies who tried to keep backthecrowd, 
were upset ; many of them were hurled 
over the desks, and nothing could be 
heard but •• Vive hi Rdpublique !" 31. 
Schneider thought it imprudent to re- 
main longer, and he was scarcely out of 
his presidential desk before half a dozen 
citizens were in it ; and they would have 
done him mischief could they have got 
at him. It was said, on the afternoon 
of this day, that he had received a blow 
on the head from a citizen who was 
somewhat the worse for absinthe, and 
that he fell covered with blood and was 
taken away by his colleagues ; but this 
was subsequently proved to lie untrue. 
There was much ringing of the presiden- 
tial bell by young workmen, who wanted 
to make speeches to the crowd ; but 
Jules Favre drove out all these intruders, 
and. finally, Gambetta, in his most im- 
pressive tones, cried, "Have you any 
confidence in your representatives ?" to 
which the rather illogical answer came, 
'■Yes, yes; we have confidence enough 
in you." — "Well, then, retire when I 
ask you to do so. ami he sure that we shall 
pronounce the downfall ! " — " Yes. but 



how about the Republic?" cried a 

voice. 

Eye-witnesses of this singular scene 
say that at this question Gambetta, who 
had been halting betweeii two opinions 
all the morning, and who was intensely 
anxious that this revolution should be 
accomplished within the strict limit of 
the law. suddenly assumed a new de- 
meanor, as if he felt that the mantle of 
his mission had fallen upon him, and, 
Stepping forward and commanding si- 
lence by that imperious gesture which 
afterwards became so familiar to the 
people of France, he said, "Citi- 
zens," — and at his first w'ord the si- 
lence was completely reestablished, — ■ 
" considering that the country is in dan- 
ger, considering that the proper time has 
been given to the national representatives 
to pronounce the downfall of the Impe- 
rial family, considering that we are 
and that we constitute a regular power 
issued from universal suffrage, we now 
declare that Louis Napoleon Bonaparte 
and his dynasty have forever ceased to 
reign in France." 

These ringing words, uttered by the 
man who had been the first to brave the 
auger and the vengeance of the Empire, 
and who had begun the revolution which 
now culminated, were saluted with bravos 
innumerable and with renewed shouts 
of " Vive la Re"publique ! " "No more 
Empire;" "The Empire has fallen 
forever; " "The Dichtance first, the Re- 
public afterwards," etc. Now the drum- 
mers of tin- National Guard, who had 
been standing at the entrance of the 
Chamber, began to beat their drums, 
ami to clamor for immediate departure 
for the Hotel de Yille. This sounded 
ominous, and Jules Favre made au 
earnest speech, which he finished by 
saying, " Do you, or do you not, want 
civil war? " 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



233 




234 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Hundreds of voices answered, " No, 
no; not civil war; war with the Prus- 
sians only." — "Then," said Jules Favre, 
•• we must have a provisional gov- 
ernment forthwith." — "To the Hotel 
de Ville! To the Hotel de Ville!" 
cried a voice. M. Favre continued 
speaking until a youth suddenly appeared 
in the tribune behind him, and shouted 
at the topi of his voice, " The Republic ! 
tiie Republic ! Let us declare it here ! " A 
few of the National Guards tried to make 
this enthusiastic youth come down ; but 
he pounded the desk and continued to 
shriek, -'The Republic! The Republic 
forthwith ! " Presently, a voice below 
took up the refrain; and then it was 
that Gambetta stepped forward, and 
said, "Yes; long live the Republic! 
Let us go, citizens, and proclaim it at 
the Hotel de Ville ! " Down upon their 
knees went quick-witted citizens, marking 
upon great sheets of paper that they 
had taken from the deputies' desks, 
"To the Hotel de Ville!" "The Re- 
public is declared." One gentleman 
even wrote — and Heaven and himself 
only know why, — on a placard, this 
statement, " The Republic is proclaimed 
by 185 votes against 113." But there 
was really no voting at all. No one 
ventured to vote agaiust the people's 
wish. 

As the men in blouses bearing the 
placards came toiling up the boulevards, 
the excitement was very great. Return- 
ing hastily from the Place de la Con- 
corde, I was at the Grand Hotel just in 
time to see a regiment of soldiers, which 
was marching steadily down the boule- 
vards, met face to face by a solid mass 
of blue-bloused and solid-looking men, 
singing loudly and brandishing their 
guns. No one knew what was the inten- 
tion of either party, and people on the 
sidewalks were beginning to run away. 



when suddenly the leader at the head of 
the crowd of workmen reversed his 
musket. His example was followed by 
the thousands behind him, and in a 
minute the regiment of soldiers coming 
the other way had done the same thing. 
In less than two minutes, soldiers and 
people were fraternizing together with 
twigs of laurel in the muzzles of their 
guns. Hands were clasped in token of 
friendship ; and an old Frenchman near 
me said, " This is the grandest specta- 
cle ever seeu in France." 

The relief from suspense was very 
great, and when it became generally 
known that the army had made no en- 
deavor to preveut the accomplishment 
of the Revolution, men, women, and 
children, delicate aged ladies, shop- 
keepers, professional men, foreigners — 
all went pell-mell to the Tuileries, where 
the people had gathered in its might, as 
it had gathered twice before at the 
downfall of arbitrary power within less 
than ninety years. 

At the Tuileries there were very few 
signs of life at the windows of the Impe- 
rial Palace, but there were anxious 
hearts within. The Empress had main- 
tained her courage remarkably well up 
to the last moment. She had been 
determined from the first that the Em- 
peror should not return to Paris. "He 
would be murdered." she said. Yet 
she appears to have had little fear for 
herself until this Sunday afternoon. 
The people sent their spokesman with a 
flag of truce to parley with the colonel 
commanding the forces before the Tuil- 
eries. lie finally consented to withdraw, 
only reserving to himself the right to 
fire upon the crowd if any violence were 
done, lint nobody paid any attention 
to the conditions which he wished to 
impose. He was pushed aside, and the 
throngs ran through the gravelled alleys 



EVROTE IX STORM AND CALM. 



235 



of the garden, past the statues, up 
the steps, and to the innermost rooms 
of the palace. Guards wearing the tri- 
color were posted at each side of the 
main entrance, and as the tumultuous 
masses pushed their way in, they begged 
them to be calm and do uo mischief ; and 
members of the sanitary corps stood on 
the steps collecting money for the 
wounded. The flag that ordinarily 
denoted the presence of the Imperial 
family at the palace was taken down, 
and on the pedestals of all statues, and 
over the gates of the Rue de Rivoli, was 
written up in chalk, " Vice la Ripub- 
lique!" "Apartments to let ; " "Mr. 
Napoleon has gone to a German water- 
ing-place;" and, finally, "Death to 
robbers and thieves ! " a sentence which 
was intended as a gentle hint to the 
rabble to behave. Hundreds of women 
of all classes crowded into the private 
apartments of the Empress, and curiously 
examined everything that was left. The 
rooms were in great confusion. Boxes 
were scattered about, and servants were 
engaged in packing, paying little atten- 
tion to the angry comments of the people. 
The Emperor's private cabinet was the 
next room visited ; and there the public 
found everything methodically arranged. 
It had been Napoleon's habit for many 
years to work in a room quite shut off 
from any part of the palace, almost im- 
permeable to noise. There, with the 
little Prince, he had spent hours, daily, 
for the last few years when in Paris. 
The book in which the Prince had taken 
a history lesson before his departure 
was open on one of the tables, and his 
exercise had been the commission to 
memory of the fact that, at a certain 
epoch of the First Empire, frivolity, cor- 
ruption, and lust prevailed in high places. 
On the Emperor's desk were maps of 
Prussia and some toy-figures of German 



soldiers, — dangerous toys they had 
proven to the Empire ! 

The Count d'H^risson, an able and 
gallant officer, who was in the first French 
expedition to China, and who was a mem- 
ber of the general staff during the de- 
fense of Paris, has left on record the 
best account, published quite recently, 
of the flight of the Empress from the 
Tuileries. It appears that the Empress 
was decided, by the entreaties of Prince 
de Mettemich and the Chevalier Nigra, 
who often visited her at the Tuileries 
during the last terrible days, to leave 
Paris and the remains of the Imperial 
wreck. About two o'clock of the after- 
noon on the 4th of September, Prince de 
Metternich and his colleague, and M. 
de Lesseps, who was a pretty constant 
visitor to the palace, succeeded in pre- 
vailing on the Empress to depart. " The 
last two weeks that the poor lady passed 
in the Tuileries," says the Count d'lleris- 
sou, "had been a long torture, a veri- 
table mortal agony. Scarcely an hour 
passed without bringing a despatch con- 
firming the news of a disaster. Thus 
her mind and her body, through these 
days consecrated to weeping, despair, 
and labor, and followed by nights with- 
out sleep, and even without repose, had 
both been badly shaken. She kept her- 
self up only by the aid of strong coffee, 
and could get a fitful repose only when 
saturated with chloral. She had. for 
that matter, consumed such an immense 
quantity of that medicine that she had 
fits of somnambulism, during which, with 
her great eyes open and staring, she 
seemed foreign to all that was passing 
round about her, and not even to under- 
stand those who addressed her." 

The Empress made a hasty toilet. 
and took as her only package a little 
travelling sack, which some of the suite 
urged her to leave lest it might betray 



23(5 



EUROPE 1,\ STURM AM) CALM. 



her; and it was afterwards found on a 
toilet table when the officers of the 
Republic invaded the Tuileries. The 
little party set out, with many misgivings, 
from the Tuileries, through the great, 
empty halls, ami across the Louvre, 
and went down into the street opposite 
the <>ld church of St. Germain l'Auxer- 
rois, from the belfry of which the signal 
for the massacre of St. Bartholomew was 
sounded. The Prince de Metternich gave 
his arm to the Empress, and Chevalier 
Nigra accompanied Madame Lebreton, 
the Empress's reader, who was greatly 
devoted to her. The lady stepped hastily 
into a call which had been hailed, and 
Prince de Metternich said to the coach- 
man, '• Boulevard llaussmann." A 
gamin who was going by stopped, and 
drawled out, with the peculiar accent of 
the low-class Parisian, " That is a good 
one ; sure enough that is the Empress ! " 
Luckily no one paid any attention to the 
boy's remark. The Prince and the 
Chevalier then got into the cab, which 
drove briskly away ; and on tin 1 Boule- 
vard llaussmann they thought it prudent 
to dismiss the coachman, ami presently 
to take another carriage, in which they 
went tn the hospitable mansion of Dr. 
Evans, in the Avenue Malakoff. 

The Count d'llerisson say>, " Dr. 
Evans was not only a specialist, who had 
been able to acquire a European reputa- 
tion as well as an enormous fortune, hut 
lie was a good- hearted man. A few 
weeks later, when the sufferings and 
the privations of the siege began, he 
established and maintained, out of his 
own purse, an American ambulance. 
When the accounts were 

made up, after he had distributed succor 

to the prisoners of war in Germany, it 
was found that the generous American 
citizen had given 1,200,000 francs to his 
French home " •• Dr. Evans," savs the 



Count, •• had known the Empress as a 
young girl, anil had always found the 
doors of the Tuileries wide open to him. 
lie now placed himself at her disposal 
with entire devotion." The Empress, 
being determined not to enter a railway 
carriage, fearing that she might be recog- 
nized and arrested, spent the night at the 
doctor's house, and the next day. in 
company with Madame Lebreton, Dr. 
Evans, and Dr. Crane, she set forth in 
a landau for the coast at Deauville. from 
which point she hoped to get to Eng- 
land." 

At the Porte Maillot Dr. Evans leaned 
half-way out of the window, under pre- 
text of asking some information of the 
National Guards, who were stationed 
there, and thus screened from view tin 1 
Empress, who, when she found that she 
was outside the walls of Paris without 
having been recognized, wept; but 
whether from joy or grief the Count docs 
not say. The party went comfortably 
forward to Mantes, where the horses, 
completely fagged, refused to budge 
another step, ami the fugitives were 
obliged to get into a clumsy country 
wagon, drawn by two ill-tempered beasts. 
Some future Carlyle may make out of 
this journey of the Empress a chapter 
as picturesque as that which describes 
the attempted flight of the king in the 
last century, and he can use the follow- 
ing incident, told with much effect by 
the Count d'llerisson: — 

In a little village called La Comman- 
derie the new relay came to grief, and 
the horses stood stubbornly under a 
shower of blows from the driver's whip. 
So Dr. Evans set out in quest of other 
cattle, and presently discovered in a 
shed a cal&che, which might have been 
new at the time of the invasion of the 
Allies. -V peasant offered to go into the 
fields and catch some wild-looking horses. 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



237 



His offer was accepted, and presently 
two old, broken-down steeds were at- 
tached to the aged wagon. The woman 
who furnished this equipage found it so 
good that she said to the doctor, •• You 
see that a queen might be satisfied with 
such a fine outfit." The Empress trem- 
bled, and believed that she had been 



interrupted save by break-downs, the 
part}' arrived at Deauville. The Count 
d'H6risson, with a charming attention 
to small details, informs us that during 
the journey the Empress had wept so 
much that she had no pocket-handker- 
chiefs left ; whereupon the doctor pro- 
ceeded to wash out the handkerchiefs, 




TIIE FLIGHT OF THE EMPRESS. 



recognized ; but this curious remark, 
which fell from the lips of the good old 
woman, was due entirely to hazard. 

At Evreux the crazy vehicle lum- 
bered through the great square at the 
moment when the new Prefect was pro- 
claiming the Republic in the presence of 
the whole population. No one even turned 
to look at the Empress and her faithful 
escort. At six o'clock in the evening, 
after thirty-six hours on a journey uu- 



and to get them rough-dried by the air. 
" The Empress," said the Count, " re- 
fused at first, then accepted ; and the 
doctor, getting down by a little brook 
which ran beside the highway, washed 
out the linen, then set the handkerchiefs 
to dry in the air at the window of the 
carriage." 

There were two yachts lying in the 
port of Deauville ; one of them was 
called the Gazelle, and belonged to Sir 



238 



EUROrE IX STORM AXD CALM 



Johu Burgoyne, who was a personal 
frieinl of Napoleon III. Dr. Evans 
went to him, and asked him if he would 
save the Empress. 

The doctor pleaded his cause so well 
that finally, towards eleven o'clock in 
the evening, Sir John Burgoyne, or, as 
the Count will have him, Sir Burgoyne, 
accepted the perilous mission, and on 
Wednesday, the 7th of September, at 
six in the morning, the Empress saw the 
soil of France receding from her view. 
She had, with her little party, embarked 
the night before, realizing that every 
moment she remained ill France added 
to her danger. The Gazelle was only 
about forty-five feet long, and had a 
small cabin, in which the Empress, 
Madame Lebretou, Dr. Evans, and 
"Sir Burgoyne" passed twenty-three 
hours in one of the most frightful tem- 
pests that ever raged on the Channel. 
Great waves swept over the yacht every 
minute. All the members of the party 
did their best to comfort and console 
the Empress, and presently the yacht 
came into the port of Hyde, where 
the passengers, deluged by salt-water 
and pale with their long exposure, looked 
so forbidding that they were refused 
rooms at the Pier Hotel, and they finally 
took refuge in the York Hotel, whence 
Dr. Evans accompanied the Empress to 
I. oiii Ion. It was he who rented for 
her at Chiselhurst the mansion of Cam- 
den Place, where Napoleon III. was 
destined to breathe his last, and from 
which the young Prince Imperial was 
sorrowfully escorted to his grave by his 
school-mates from the military institution 
at Woolwich. 

Count d'Herisson has the slightest 
details with regard to the historic oc- 
casion carefully set down. We need 
not, perhaps, question the taste of Count 
d'Herisson in stating thai the Empress 



entirely forgot to thank Sir John Bur- 
goyne for the use of his yacht, and that 
it was more than a year afterwards, 
when Lady Burgoyne expressed her 
astonishment about the matter ill a con- 
versation with the Empress, that the 
omission was repaired. In leaving the 
Tuileries the Empress had taken abso- 
lutely nothing but the clothes which 
she had on. Count d'Herisson himself 
was charged with the duty of bringing 
to the Empress such of her personal 
belongings as he could obtain. He was 
authorized by the new authorities to go 
into the Empress's private apartments 
in the Tuileries. and thus describes 
them : — 

"The great salon, which served as a 
kind of study for the Empress regent, 
her boudoir, her oratory, her bed- 
chamber, her toilet-room were all in a 
long suite, overlooking, and getting 
their light from, the garden of the Tuil- 
eries. All these rooms were furnished 
with the refinement of modern luxury ; 
and this luxury hardly seemed in its 
place. It was out of character with the 
rather severe grandeur of the Tuileries. 
It was a parlor of Madame de Metter- 
nich transported to the old palace. I 
feel certain that if the famous ambassa- 
dress had lived in these Tuileries her 
parlor would have been of an entirely 
different style. I have never seen the 
private apartments of the Queen of Eng- 
land, nor those of the Empress of Russia, 
but I would wager that they are strangely 
different from those that the Empress 
Eugenie had arranged for herself at the 
Tuileries." 

Among the despatches lying in dis- 
order on the Empress's table was one 
which M. d'Herisson read, and which 
has an historical interest. It was ad- 
dressed to Napoleon HI., ami was thus 
conceived : — 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM, 



239 



"To the Emperor: Do not dream 
of coming back here if you do not 
wish to let loose a frightful revolution. 
This is the advice of Rouher and Chev- 
reau, whom I saw this morning. People 
would be sure to say here that you are 
flying from danger. Do not forget how 
Prince Napoleon's departure from the 
Crimea has shadowed his whole life. 

" EuGEXIE." 

The Count also indulges his public in 
a sketch of the dressing-rooms of the 
Empress ; the mauuikius upon which her 
costumes were exhibited before she con- 
descended to place them upon her Im- 
perial person, and many other items which 
we need not here recite. Some idea of 
the luxury of the Empress's wardrobe 
may be gathered from the fact that M. 
d'llerisson took away from the crown 
fur-keeper GOO. 000 fraucs' worth of 
costly furs, and that the Empress had 
as mauy more deposited with her per- 
sonal friends. He estimates the total 
value of the Empress's furs at 3,000,000 
or 4,000,000 of francs. 

When the Republican deputies set 
forth from the Palais Bourbon for the 
Hotel de Ville a vast shout went up 
from the enormous masses of people on 
the Place de la Concorde. Jules Favre 
was stopped at every moment by people 
who insisted upon shaking hands with 
him, or affectionately embracing him. 
M. Simon was quite worn out with en- 
deavors to rescue his colleague from the 
too demonstrative populace. At last it 
was necessary to surround Favre, who 
was, for the moment, more conspicuous 
than Gambetta, with a few National 
Guards, and so. by-and-by. became with 
his friends to the historic HAtcl de Ville. 

Paris had, in no less than half an 
hour, completely regained i:s equanimity. 
The news o. ; the Republic's declaration 



had spread like lightning from quarter 

to quarter, and everybody seemed, in the 
general joy, to have forgotten the Prus- 
sians, and the siege which was tightening 
its iron bands round the town. Jules 
Simon says that lie heard one workman 
say to another: "They won't dare to 
come, now that we have got it." " They " 
were the Prussians ; "it" was the Re- 
public. The deputies did not stop at 
theTuileries, — although they were <1\ ing 
to know what was going on within the 
walls, — but pushed on. here and their, 
seeing workmen mounted on ladders 
knocking off the N's and Imperial eagles 
from signs, and demolishing everything 
which tended to recall the memory of 
the recently ruined government. 

At the Hotel de Ville there was new 
danger; and all the politicians knew it. 
There the Communists rallied, as they 
rallied later to such deadly advantage. 
There was Milliere with his men ; De- 
lescluze arrived shortly afterwards. 
Milliere had been busily at work draw- 
ing up lists of members for the projected 
new government, and these lists were 
already being circulated in the Place de 
Grove when the deputies arrived. The 
names of Blanqui, Delescluze, Floureus, 
Felix Pvat, and Rochefort had been 
placed upon these lists. There was a 
plan to proclaim Rochefort Mayor of 
Paris, and a strongly armed delegation 
had been sent oft' to Sainte Pelagic to take 
him out of the captivity from which he 
was freed by the disappearance of the 
Empire. Had any guardian ventured to 
resist this delegation lie would undoubt- 
edly have been shot. One of the leading 
members of the Republican group affirms 
that, unless some one had had the good 
sense to cry out when the procession was 
Hearing the H6tel de Ville, " Make the 
Deputies of Paris mem tiers of the govern- 
ment ! " the Commune would have broken 



240 



EUROPE IN STORM AM) CALM. 



out iu all its hideousness on that very day, 

and the Prussians would have been in 
Paris eight days afterwards. 

Rochefort arrived from his prison in a 
carriage ornamented with red flags, and 
followed by a crowd which yelled, 
" Rochefort for Mayor of Paris ! " This 
question of the mayoralty was a burning 
one, and, as we see by this incident, was 
brought forward the moment it was 
possible. Paris had ardently desired 
the autonomy of the capital for many 
vears, and, had the inhabitants been ac- 
corded that autonomy, would never have 
made the Revolution of 1871. But the 
time had not come for Rochefort to be 
Mayor of Paris, so he had to content 
himself with a post which was offered 
him in the new government, henceforth 
to be known through the days of diffi- 
culty and despair in the siege as the 
government of National Defense. Un- 
doubtedly Paris owes much to these men 
who acted with so much gravity, vigor, 
ami tact at a time when delay or hesi- 
tation might have caused infinite blood- 
shed. 

On the way to the Hotel do Ville 
the deputies had met General Trochu 
galloping along, followed by his general 
staff, and Jules Favre had made a sign 



to him to halt, taken him by the hand, 
and informed him of all the events of 
the day. " I am going with my friends," 
he said, " to constitute a government at 
the Hotel de Ville, so we will beg you 
to return to your quarters, ami there 
wait our communications." General 
Trochu said he had no objections to 
doing this ; and in fact he did it. Before 
nightfall Paris had its new government, 
with Gambetta as the delegate for the 
Interior, Jules Simon for Public Instruc- 
tion, Jules Favre for Foreign Affairs, 
General Leflo as Minister of War, and 
General Trochu, Eugene Pelletan, Em- 
manuel Arago, and Rochefort as dele- 
gates without special missions. The 
new government's proclamation, issued 
in haste, told the people that the Republic 
had saved them from the invasion of 
1792, that the Republic was proclaimed 
anew, and that the Revolution had been 
made in the interests of public safety. 

A day or two afterwards the exiles, 
who had for twenty-one years watched 
the course of the Empire from their 
retreats in the mountains and islands, 
were on their way home. Victor Hugo 
did not lose an instant in making prepa- 
rations for his departure after he had 
heard the news of his enemy's downfall. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



241 



CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE. 

Sedan. — The March in the Ardennes. — The Headstrong Palikao. — The Crown Prince of Saxony's 
Army. — General De Failly at Beaumont. — The Retreat to Sedan. -( (eneral De Wimpffen comes 
upon the Scene. — The Prussians Open Fire in Front of Sedan. — Disaster to MacMahon. - -Slaugh- 
tered by Invisible Enemies. — The Battle at Bazcilles. — De Wimpffeii's Forlorn Hope. 



WHAT had taken place at Sedan? 
We pass over the painful and 
unwise march of Marshal MacMahon, 
with his poorly equipped and badly fed 
troops, from Rheims to the point at 
which he was met by the advance corps 
of the Crown Prince's army. Some idea 
of the confusion and disorder of his 
march may be gathered from the state- 
ment, made upon good authority, that 
the army, which left Chalons one hun- 
dred and forty thousand strong, could 
not put seventy thousand men in Hue 
on the great day of the decisive battle 
at Sedan. It is now clearly established 
by General De Wimpffen, and by other 
gallant officers, that if they had been 
allowed to have their way, they would 
never have let the sun set on the battle- 
field of Sedan without a final and a 
brilliant struggle for victory. The gov- 
ernment in Paris, acting upon the insulli- 
cient information which it had, insisted 
with the j;reatcstenergy, while MacMahon 
was hesitating at Rheims, that he should 
march to a junction with Bazaine. Gen- 
eral De Palikao, whose conduct can 
be qualified only as headstrong, went 
to see the Empress, and threatened 
that, unless MacMahon started at once 
for Metz, he would have it posted 
up all over France that the Emperor 
was the cause of the disasters which 
must result from the delay in bringing 
the two great French armies together. 
MacMahon, like a gallant gentleman, 



took the lila me for this fatal march, at 
the time that he was criticised with the 
greatest vivacity and harshness, upon 
himself; but history will place the re- 
sponsibility of the disaster of Sedan on 
the shoulders of the Emperor and the 
Regency in Paris. General Lebrun and 
others have given what they thought 
are sufficient proofs to indicate that, in 
spite of all the follies committed by the 
Imperial army, the Germans were taken 
very much by surprise, and that the 
concentration of their troops around 
Metz was not due at all to the marvel- 
lous perspicacity of Von Moltke, or to 
the German military genius, but rather 
to a happy accident, which, in addition 
to the disorganization of the French, 
gave them a comparatively easy victory. 
On the 27th of August, at half-past 
eight in the evening, Marshal Mac- 
Mahon addressed to the Ministers of 
War the following telegram: " The firsi 
and second armies — more than two hun- 
dred thousand strong — are blockading 
Metz chiefly on the left shore. A force 
estimated at fifty thousand men is said 
to be established on the right bank of 
the Meuse to hinder my march on 
Metz. We hear that the army of the 
Ciown Prince is to-day on the move 
towards the Ardennes, with fifty thou- 
sand men. It is said to lie already at 
Ardeuil. I am at Chenes, with a little 
more than one hundred thousand men. 
Since the Dth I have had no news from 



242 EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 

Bazaiue. If I go forward to join forces in their ranks, and were obliged to retreat 

with liiin I shall be attacked in front by before a deadly fire, which came from 

a part of the first and second armies, forests along the route. The Fifth 

which can lodge iu the woods a force French corps, under General De Failly, 

superior in my own. at the same time was thus pushed back to Chatillou, where 

that I am attacked by the Crown it camped in the greatest confusion foi 

Prince's army, who can cut off my line the night. 

of retreat. To-morrow 1 move up to Poor General De Failly committed 

Metz, whence I shall continue my re- faults enough in the war to be pardoned 

treat, according to events, towards the the unfortunate remark attributed to him 

west." by many historians of the campaign, and 

Bade came a telegram from the Minis- never, so far as I know, contradicted by 

ter of War, saving: "If you abandon him. — a remark made when he was iu 

Bazaine we shall have a. revolution in full retreat. lie was breakfasting at 

Paris, ami you will yourself be attacked Beaumont, where a. fresh disaster was 

by all the forces of the enemy. Paris destined to fall upon the French, when 

will take care of itself against the Gel'- he was informed that, the Prussians were 

mans; and it appears to me urgent approaching. "Oh, well," .said the 

that you should join Bazaine as rapidly General, " we punished them severely 

as possible. Shall follow you with the enough yesterday: it is only fair that 

greatest anxiety." When Marshal Mac- they should put a few of our men hors 

Mahon received this despatch, he re- de combat to-day ; so let us open another 

nounced his movement on Metz and bottle." 

inarched towards Montmedy, having In the leafy avenues of the Ardennes 
lost a precious twenty-four hours, dur- the Germans found facile shelter, and 
ing which time the German army was made sad havoc among the French on 
undertaking one of its terrible forced this day of the 27th. The next day the 
marches, like that which decided the French resumed their march in a pour- 
battle of Sadowa : and MacMahon, who ing rain, and there were no hostile opera- 
fancied that in the neighborhood of tions. But on the 29th two squadrons 
Montmedy he was going to operate his of Prussian hussars, coming up to a little 
famous junction with Bazaine's forces, village, took it by storm. Further on, 
found himself face to face with a division at Nouart, the French were unlucky in a 
of the Germans, which formed, as it collision with the Germans. Near this 
were, a fourth German anny, and had point the French opened a formidable 
been organized in great haste, in view artillery tire upon the German troops, 
of the change in the French plan of who were peaceably defiling through a 
operations, and placed under the orders valley about a league away; but no 
of the Prince of Saxony. This arm}' French General had had the forethought 
was composed of the Prussian Guards, to block the route over which the Ger- 
magnilicent troops, the Saxons, and mans were passing, by placing an army 
one of the Alvensleben corps, and two corps across it. On the evening of the 
divisions of cavalry. 29th of August General De Failly's 

At Buzancy the French cavalry and corps, which had been the avant-garde 

the chasseurs of General Brahaut sud- of tin.' French army, was now the rear- 

denly found the German shells falling guard. General Felix Douay, with the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



243 



Seventh corps, was in the rear, on the 
right, near Buzancy. The First corps, 
commanded by General Ducrot, formed 
the centre, and was at Raucourt, and the 
Twelfth corps, under General Lebruu, 
was in camp on the left. "To accom- 
plish this movement of concentration," 
says a clever critic of the Empire, " which 
culminated at Sedan, the French army 
had made eight leagues in three days ! " 

Unless the French army could, rapidly 
gain Montmedy, or retrace its steps to 
Mezieres, it was placed in a position of 
great danger. Through this wild, woody 
country, full of ravines, the river 
Meuse takes its sinuous way. Mont- 
medy is the principal stronghold of the 
department of the Meuse. Not far 
away are Mouzon, on the same river, 
and Carillon on the Chieres. Beyond 
them, and just hack of the confluence of 
the Meuse and the Chieres, is situated 
the old town of Sedan, at the bottom of 
a kind of sleepy hollow, surrounded on 
all sides by green and wooded hills. A 
little farther away is Mezieres, the only 
really important stronghold of the sec- 
tion. " Here," says M. Jules Claretie, 
" in this kind of triangle, formed 
by the two rivers, the Meuse and the 
ChiOres, the destinies of the country 
were to be jeopardized." 

On the evening of the 29th General 
De Failly passed through the forest of 
Dieulet and camped at Beaumont. It is 
perhaps too much to say that he camped, 
for all night long his troops were strag- 
gling in in little parties, without the 
smallest attention to discipline. The 
rear-guard of the Fifth corps did not 
get into camp until live o'clock in the 
morning. At seven o'clock Marshal 
MacMahon came up to the camp, stopped 
at the head-quarters, and ordered General 
De Failly to march upon Mouzon. Here 
there was a delay, which seems to have 



characterized all De Failly's movements, 
and nothing was done until nine o'clock, 
and then, after a short march, there was 
a halt until noon, by which time all was 
lost. Poor Marshal MacMahon had 
gone oil confident that his orders would 
be obeyed and that De Failly would keep 
ahead of the enemy, for this .seems the 
utmost that the unfortunate French 
hoped. At a. little after the hour of 
noon. General De Failly found his corps 
surrounded by the army of the Crown 
Prince of Prussia. 

The first Prussian shell, it is said. 
caused a veritable stupor in the French 
camp. Neither generals nor soldiers 
had the least notion that the enemy was 
so closely upon them. There was a call 
to arms ; many of the soldiers were in 
their shirt-sleeves, some of them were 
lying down asleep. There was a whirl 
of 1 latteries along the hill above the 
French, then a rain of shell, which did 
terrible execution. Presently, three 
French regiments of the line and the 
Fourth battalion of the Chasseurs '). 
Pied got a position on the hills, and were 
pushing back into the woods the Prus- 
sians wdio were just appearing, when a 
new storm of shells came out of the 
thickets, and the valiant liners looked in 
vain for their own artillery to second 
their efforts. The Germans, seeing that 
the corps was completely at their mercy, 
broke cover, and with loud shouts 
advanced on the enemy. The French, 
in desperation, then attempted a bayonet 
charge ; but they were met with such 
a frightful fusillade that they were 
obliged to retreat. On the left the 
French were thrown back on Mouzon ; 
their centre was broken, ami carried by 
the Bavarians; and their retreat upon 
Sedan was a veritable sauve qui pent. 

All night long the discouraged and 
demoralized troops were pouring into the 



244 



EUROPE IN STORM AXL) CALM. 



gates of Sedan, and next day the roads 
about the town were covered with re- 
treating men, worn out with hunger and 
fatigue. Towards nightfall of the 29th 
one of the French cavalry regiments, the 
Fifth cuirassiers, had attempted a brill- 
iant charge on the enemy, but was 
badly cut to pieces by the artillery. 

The Thirtieth regiment of the line, 
when it retreated across tin- Meuse, after 
sunset on this disastrous day, had not a 
single round of cartridges left. 

Meantime General Douay's Seventh 
corps hail arrived mi the battle-field, and 
General LeBrun, with his infantry, had 
made a splendid defence of the passage 
cf the Meuse ; but the day was veritably 
lust, and the whole army had finally 
received orders to retreat upon Sedan 
along the left shore of the river Chieres. 

Here tin- army was close to the 
Belgian frontier, and entire regiments, 
wandering recklessly hither and yon, 
crossing tin- frontier without knowing it, 
found themselves in presence of the 
neutral Belgian line of troops, and, with 
despair and rage in their hearts, were 
compelled to throw down their guns, 
and also to recognize that they had 
thrown away their last chance for the 
defense of the country in that campaign. 

While the confusion and agony of this 
retreat was at its height, the Imperial 
train of carriages made its appearance 
on the high-road to Sedan, and the lack- 
eys compelled all the wagons which were 
filled with wounded and dying men to lie 
ranged in regular order at the side of the 
load while the Emperor passed by. 
Napoleon had spent the day at Beau- 
mont, lying on the grass, surrounded by 
the officers of the general staff, and lis- 
tening with seeming indifference to the 
noise of the cannon heard beyond the 
woods. He preserved his usual calm 
while on the road to Sedan, and tele- 



graphed from Carignan to the Empress 
that there had Keen an engagement of no 
great importance, and that, he had been 
em horseback for some time. 

On the morning of the 30th of August, 
( ieneral l)e Wimpffen came upon the 
seine. lie was coming in all haste 
to take the place of General De Failly, 
wlio had proved himself so notoriously 
incompetent, and his energies were 
doubly awakened because he was a 
native of the province in which this 
great and decisive struggle was going on. 
When he arrived at Metz, on the morn- 
ing of the .'Kith, he was horrified at the 
appearance of the army corps confided 
to his charge. Perhaps, if he had been 
in command at Buzancy, Sedan might 
not have occurred. "I rushed down," 
says General De Wimpffen, in his own 
published account of the operations 
around Sedan, " on to the plain to reason 
with the Hying men. I could hardly 
make them understand me. It was in 
vain I cried to them, ' Look behind you, 
if you do not believe me! The enemy's 
cannon is still a long way off: you have 
nothing to tear.' They would not listen 
to me in their panting retreat. I finally 
succeeded iii stopping a few and par- 
tially reassuring them. Little by little 
this example was followed." It must be 
admitted that no (ieneral ever took com- 
mand of an army corps under more try- 
ing conditions. "Just at tiie moment 
when I was busiest in getting things into 
shape the equipage of the household of 
the Emperor came up along the road near 
me. The servants pretended that every- 
body must stand aside to give them pas- 
sage. I gave some of them a formal 
order to profit by the freshness of their 
horses, and to take a side-mad, and clear 
out as speedily as possible. All the 
troops were half dead with hunger," 
savs the General "No distribution of 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



245 



bread had been made for some time. 
They were howling for food." 

The misfortunes of General De Wim- 
pffen at Sedan have a touch of pathos in 
them. This brave man. who had heard 
his praise ringing throughout Europe at 
the close of the Italian campaign, — the 
man whose grenadiers of the guard had 
swept down upon t lit- Austrian army on 
the day of Magenta, and who, sword in 
hand, had hern in the thickest of the fight, 
was now condemned l>y the strange 
caprice of fate to command a broken and 
a ust less army, and to sign his name to 
the most inglorious capitulation of 
modern times. That he was able to 
bear himself with the greatest dignity 
under these trying circumstances reflects 
the highest honor upon his character; 
and his countrymen are now unanimous 
in the belief that, had he arrived in time, 
he could have changed the current of 
events; nay, they even believe that, had 
it not been for the inexplicable feeble- 
ness of Napoleon, towards the close of 
the decisive day, De Wimpffen would 
have given Marshal Von Moltke a genu- 
ine surprise. 

But it was not to he. General De 
Wimpffen arrived at Sedan, with what 
was left of poorDe Failly's corps, on the 
night of the 30th. The next morning- he 
looked over the camp, and. after a rather 
cool reception from Marshal MacMahou, 
he went to pay his respects to the Em- 
peror. On seeing ( General De Wimpffen, 
Napoleon's icy surface of calm melted ; 
the tears came into his eyes : he clasped 
the General by the hands, and said, " Do 
explain to me, if you can, why we are 
always beaten, and what can have 
brought about the disastrous affair at 
Beaumont." Then he added, " Alas ! 
we are very unlucky ." 

( leneral De Wimpffen did not undertake 
to explain, hut contented himself with 



a few commonplaces, and hastened to 
patch up matters as best he could. He 
found in Sedan neither provisions nor 
ammunition in any quantity of conse- 
quence. The French army had lost 
twenty cannon, eleven mitrailleuses, and 
seven hundred prisoners at Beaumont; 
and the Prussians and the Saxons were 
still pushing back the French soldiers 
nearer ami nearer to Sedan, down into 
the deadly hollow' between the hills, 
which wen' so soon to be crowned by the 
fatal circle of artillery. Towards Mez- 
ieres, the Crown Prince's army hail cut 
off retreat in the direction of that fortress, 
and the Bavarians were massed before 
Bazeilles. The crowning satire upon the 
maladministration of the Fmpire was the 
crossing of the Germans over the Meuse 
on bridges already mined, which the 
French engineer corps had not taken the 
precautious to blow up. 

General De Wimpffen issued a vigorous 
proclamation to the inhabitants of the 
department of the Aisue, in which lie 
said, "One of your children who has 
just arrived from Algeria, gives himself 
the satisfaction of visiting his family 
before he faces the enemy. He lues 
you to show yourselves the worthy 
children of those who in 181-1 and 1815 
joined themselves with our soldiers to 
fight against invasion." 

Marshal MacMahon, it is said, had 
never had the least idea of giving battle 
in such a ruinous position as that in w Inch 
he was now placed. He spent a great 
part of the day of the-'ilst of August in 
examining the roads leading into Sedan, 
to determine by which one he would effect 
his retreat. There were three roads: 
one to the west, towards Metz, which 
was. as we have already seen, rendered 
useless ; another to the east to ( a rig-nan ; 
a. third to the north into Belgium. Mac- 
Mahon sent a strong party to cut the 



24(! EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

bridge over the Mouse at Donch£ry, Wimpffen had in his pocket the eommis- 

and that uight left things to be decided sion of the Minister of War. giving him 

by the position in which he should find the general command of the army in case 

the enemy at dawn. General Lebrun that MacMahon were. killed or wounded, 

asserts, however, in a recently published When General De Wimpffen learned of 

work, that MacMahon had, on the even- General Ducrot's appointment he was 

ing of the "'1st of August, given up all at first inclined to keep his own commis- 

hope of taking the defensive, and that sion in his pocket; but as soon as he 

(lie disposition of the four army corps saw that General Ducrot was operating 

around Sedan indicates that he was pre- a retreat ou the centre and on the left, 

paring for advance. so as to throw the whole army back to 

Marshal MacMahon did not have to Mezieres, he thought it was his duty to 

wait for the morning's sun to decide take charge, and, bringing his troops 

what he would do, for the Prussians back under the cannon of Sedan, he 

opened a tremendous lire at half-past announced himself as General-in-chief, 

four on the morning of the 1st. The showed his commission, and at once sent 

Marshal jumped upon his horse, and orders to General Ducrot to take up his 

went out to get an exact idea of the old position, sending to General Lebrun, 

enemy's position. While watching a who was fighting at Bazeilles, all the 

lively fusillade, in front of Bazeilles, a troops which he could dispose of, to 

splinter from a shell struck and killed confirm the success that the valiant Le- 

his horse, ami the Marshal fell heavily brun was getting on the right, 

under him. At first he thought he was " It would have been," says M. Jules 

only bruised, but when he was taken out Simon, "possible at the beginning of 

from under the animal's body he the day to operate a retreat at Bouillon, 

swooned, and found that he was so to reach Belgium, and thus to save part 

badly hurt that he must transmit his of the army ; but then the troops would 

powers. lie sent at once for General have constituted themselves prisoners 

Ducrot, thinking that this General was without having fought. Neither Marshal 

better qualified to judge of the German MacMahon nor General Ducrot nor 

movement because he had had so wide General De Wimpffen thought of this for 

an experience of their tactics. Ducrot a single instant. With few illusions as 

hastened to the Twelfth corps, which was to the result of a battle, if they were 

already very badly cut up, and pointed forced to accept it. they would hear of 

out directly to General Lebrun that the retreat only in passing over the enemy, 

enemy was moving slowly up the heights, which was hemming them in. The Ger- 

which would give them the advantage man report states this to their honor, 

over the left of the First French corps, and Fiance will remember them grate- 

" The enemy is proceeding," he said, fully for it." 

"according to its usual tactics. It is It was now nine o'clock in the morning, 

going to surround us on all sides. We General De Wimpffen, ranging over the 

must not hesitate. The army must beat field of battle, met the Emperor, who 

a retreat post-haste for Mezieres." had come back from the hills near 

Meantime there were two French com- Bazeilles. Napoleon had been for a 

manders on the Held. MacMahon had short time under the enemy's fire, and one 

appointed Ducrot. but General Dc of his orderlies had been killed near him. 



I'.CRorE IN STORM AND CALM. 



247 



When he met General De Wimpffen he 
was going quietly to take his breakfast. 
General De Wimpffen tells ns in his 
pamphlet on the battle that he himself 
had had nothing to eat that morning but 
a carrot, that he had [Hilled in the field, 
and that thousands of soldiers had had 
nothing to cat for twelve hours. The 
Emperor asked for news of the battle. 
General De Wimpffen answered that 
things were going well, and that they 
were gaining ground. Napoleon thought 
it proper to point out that the enemy 
was massing very considerable forces on 
the left; but De Wimpffen said, "We 
are going to busy ourselves with throwing 
the Bavarians into the Meuse ; then, 
with all our troops, we will face our new 
enemy." These words, spoken in haste, 
were afterwards brought up against De 
Wimpffen by the Imperial Party as pre- 
sumable evidence of his incapacity. But 
the German military report does full justice 
to De Wimpffen's tactics, and condemns 
those of General Ducrot. General De 
Wimpffen's plan was to try first to win 
a defensive battle, then to undertake a 
surprise by a sudden and general on- 
slaught on the Bavarian corps, forcing 
them to open the road toCarignan, which 
the movements then in operation were 
leaving quite undefended by the German 
troops. He meant to hold out until night- 
fall not only for the honor of the French 
arms, but because he thought it would be 
easier than to fray a passage for himself 
and his army as farasCarignan and Mont- 
medy. As for General Ducrot's tactics 
the Prussian generals have repeatedly said 
that his movement, which had been begun 
at half-past seven o'clock, hail led them 
to hope that they would have the whole 
French army safely caged by nine. They 
admit that they were very much surprised 
at the sudden offensive movements, and 
especially at the prolonged resistance. 



The Emperor had definitely given up 
all participation in the command of the 
French army some fifteen days before 
the battle of Sedan, and neither he nor 
General Ducrot took any part in the 
command after De Wimpffen had shown 
his commission. After Napoleon met 
De Wimpffen on the field he went to his 
quarters in Sedan, and was seen no 
more until the battle was over, at six 
o'clock in the evening. 

General De Wimpffen was determined, 
at all hazards, to avoid a capitulation. 
His personal pride, his sense of the 
country's dignity, and his fresh ardor, 
which had not yet been blunted by the 
spectacle of the long series of disasters 
and the horrible exposures of negligence 
since the defeats in Alsatia, — all for- 
bade him to think of surrender. He 
plainly saw that he was fatally, hope- 
lessly outnumbered; but he set his 
heroic soul upon the task of breaking 
the line of iron and steel after he had 
inflicted all the punishment he could 
upon his enemies, anil getting away out 
of this horrible valley, where he could 
undertake new movements in more ad- 
vantageous positions. It was almost 
impossible to move about upon this field 
of battle, which was swept from earliest 
dawn by four hundred German cannon. 
The German batteries, while the Prus- 
sian corps were manoeuvring with a view 
to closing up the road to Belgium, sent 
down upon the French troops continuous 
and converging fires. " Wounded." 
says one French writer, "by invisible 
enemies firing from unknown distances, 
the demoralized troops fell into a kind 
of dumb rage. Our artillery, inferior in 
range to the German guns, replied as 
best it could ; but, while our shells could 
not always reach the enemy, — and a good 
many of them went off prematurely, — ■ 
the number of the enemy's guns was 



248 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

triple ours ; — we were simply crushed ! of it by two officers whom he managed to 
General Felix Douay's troops were ter- hail on the field, saying to his Imperial 
rible sufferers from this fire. The cav- master that he had decided to force the 
airy could not even get into line ; and to line in front of General Lebrun and Gen- 
maintain the infantry in line of battle eral Ducrot sooner than be taken prisoner 
was next to impossible." The German a) Sedan. " Let Your Majesty come and 
artillery dismounted three French bat- put himself at the head of his troops; 
teries in less than ten minutes. Here they will engage upon their honor to 
the mitrailleuse, on which the French had open a passage for him." Tins letter 
counted so much, was quite useless, be- was written at a quarter-past one; but 
cause of its short range. just then General Douay was falling 

All the military writers on the French back before the Prussian artillery, and 

side, describing the battles, say that the the French troops, who had supported 

German circle formed around the French with real heroism the terrible fire from 

seemed to grow smaller and smaller the steel cannons of the Germans for 

every lew minutes; and this weird and more than two hours, were wavering, 

terrible movement of closing in had the The Prussian Infantry was rushing down 

most demoralizing effect upon the French to sweep away the French left, when 

troops. General De Wimpffeu had not General Ducrot sent General De Margue- 

a single aide-de-camp at his disposition, ritte with his cavalry division to charge 

From a hill on which he had established the Germans. This General executed a 

himself, he looked down upon General brilliant movement, and dispersed the 

Ducrot driven out of Givonue, and Gen- first inimical lines, hut found himself 

eral Douay half crushed by the German rushing on troops formed in squares, and 

artillery-men, and the Fifth corps artil- firing at one hundred and fifty paces 

leiy fighting here and there. At Ba- deadly volleys into the galloping squad- 

zeilles. the marines posted in the houses rons. The French cuirassiers turned 

wen' uivinu the Bavarians a terrible and returned to the charge, with the 

punishment, ami General Yon der Tanu splendid energy shown by their unfortu- 

had to he reinforced with troops nate comrades at Froshweiler. 
from the Prince of Saxony's army, The Crown Prince of Prussia a.fter- 

froin the Prussian Brandenburg regi- wards told General Ducrot that the old 

ment, and from the Fourth battalion of German king, when he saw this white 

Prussian chasseurs, as well as by a new line of French cuirassiers come, breaking 

batter}', before he could sustain combat, like foam upon a rocky shore, against 

It was just at this point that De the black squares of German Infantry, 

Wimpffeu hoped to break through the from time to time, could not restrain 

enemy's lines : so he gave orders to Gen- his admiration, ami cried out: '-Oh! 

eral Lebrun to undertake the operation, the brave fellows." General De Mar- 

At the same time In- ordered General gueritte was mortally wounded in this 

Ducrot to cover the movement. General magnificent charge; hut his place was 

Douay to march to La Moncelle, mar taken by M. De Galliffet, so soon to lie 

lia/.cillcs. and one of the divisions of rendered celebrated by his energetic ac- 

the Fifth corps to throw itself upon the tiou during the great Paris insurrection ; 

same point. Then he hastily wrote a ami new charges, all superb but all mi- 

letter to Napoleon, sending two copies availing, were made. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



24'J 



This final effort of Do Galliffet's closed 
the French resistance on this side of the 
battle-field. The army began to retreat, 
still decimated by the fiendish shell-fire. 
General Ducrot got his soldiers to rally 
three times; and each time the shells 
sent them back. Companies disbanded, 
and began to fall away Inwards the old 
camp near Sedan. They neither knew 
whether MaeMahon was alive or dead, 
whether the Emperor had fled or was 
still at his post, who was in command, 
or anything else ! They finally were 
panic-stricken, and swept into the streets 
of Sedan and hung round the base of the 
pedestal, upon which stood the proud 
figure of Turenne, who had taken and 
sacked many a German town. 

The battle was lost. Von Moltke, on 
the heights, was jubilant at the success 
of his cool and adroit, calculations; but 
there was still a duty left for the poor 
General De Wimpffen to perform. His 
conscience rebelled more than ever at 
the thought of surrender, and lie clung to 
his idea of opening a gateway towards 
Carignan. While De Wimpffen was 
impatiently awaiting the answer to his 
letter, he was horrified and ashamed 
to hear that the white flag of capitula- 
tion was hoisted upon the rampart of 
Sedan. Yet he could not believe that 
the Emperor would not answer him, 
and he waited for an hour at the head 
of five or six thousand troops of all si irts, 
a kind of epitome of the whole army, 
the bravest and the best, the men who 
were too honest and brave to retreat, and 
who were willing to sacrifice their lives for 
the maintenance of their honor. Witli 
this little bod}' he had made one or two 
attempts to continue the resistance. 
When he learned from an officer of the 
Imperial household about the appearance 
of the white flag, it is said that he fell 
into a terrible passion. 



When he read the letter from the Em- 
peror, ordering liini to capitulate, he shut 
his teeth, and said, "I do not recognize 
the Emperor's right to hoist the Hag of 
parley. I refuse to negotiate." lie 
crushed the letter in his hand, hastened to 
Sedan, and furiously addressed the sol- 
diers who were hanging about the Place de 
Turenne. •' What ! "he said, "will you give 
up your arms, and be made prisoners? Not 
a bit of it! Follow me and open a pas- 
sage by shoving the enemy aside ! " This 
vigorous manoeuvre seemed at first likely 
to succeed. General De Wimpffen got 
about him several thousand men from all 
the corps. There were found courageous 
inhabitants of the town among thosj 
who offered to die of win with him; and 
they set forth upon one of those forlorn 
hopes, about which, in process of time, 
nations weave the garlands of tradition, 
and make of that which was foolish a 
sublime and heroic thing. Hundreds of 
De Wimpffen's little body of men were 
swept away ; but others rushed upon the 
Bavarians, succeeded in taking thesquare 
of Bazeilles, and swept the enemy out 
beyond tin- church, where it had been in 
strong position, and, vainly hoping for 
reinforcements, stubbornly maintained 
their place — it was all that they could do 
— until nightfall. General Lebrun was 
in this glorious little body of men, and 
fought, side by side with De Wimpffen. 
But in the evening, the commanding 
general, finding that he could not hold 
out, felt it his duty to return to Sedau. 
He had twice refused to treat with the 
enemy, which Napoleon had wished him 
to do. He went slowly and despair- 
ingly to the little hotel, where he had 
taken a room on the night of his arrival, 
and sitting down at his desk, wrote a, 
letter offering his resignation as com- 
mander-in-chief. It was then about half- 
past seven o'clock. 



250 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



Ai eight, lie received a letter from 
the Emperor, saying: "General, you 
eannol give your resignation, because we 
must try and save the army by an hon- 
orable capitulation. I cannot, therefore, 
accept your resignation. You have done 
your duty to-day; continue to do it; 
you will render a real service t<> the 
country. The King of Prussia has ac- 
cepted an armistice, and 1 am waiting 
his propositions." 

If Genera] De Wimpffen had known 
that the Kiug of Prussia had not ac- 
cepted a proposition for an armistice, 
but instead had received from Napoleon 
III. an offer of surrender, his energetic 
character might have led him to some 
very radical decision. Rut Napoleon 
was careful to conceal from him the real 
state of the ease. lie had sent an aide- 
de-camp, the Count Reille, to carry to 
the King of Prussia a letter, in which he 
said that '• not having been able to die 
at the head of his troops, he placed his 
sword at the feetof His Majesty." That 
he was not able to die at the head of his 
troops was due to the care with which he 
secluded himself in his hotel during the 
whole afternoon. 

Of how much avail he could have 
been at the head of his troops may be 
judged from the fact that he did not 
even know what German armies he was 
confronted with. When he met the 
King of Prussia he began talking about 
the army of Friederich Karl. The old 



King remarked that he did not under- 
stand the observation of his Imperial 
Majesty. " It is," he said, •• the army 
of my son that you have been lighting 
to-day." 

" But where, then, is Friederich 
Karl?" said the Emperor. 

'• Blockading Metz with seven army 
corps," was the answer of the King. 

The story goes that King William 
sent down to Sedan, after the reception 
of Napoleon Ill.'s letter, a certain 
Bavarian lieutenant-colonel, a veritable 
dandy, tall, thin, wearing gold-bowed 
spectacles. This gentleman, as, in 
company with the French officers who 
had brought Napoleon's letter, he had 
reached a point just outside the Prus- 
sian lines, was not a little startled by 
the explosion of a shell from the German 
batteries, which fell scarcely ten yards 
from him. He brushed the dust from 
his clothes, and turning to the French 
officers, said. "Gentlemen, I beg a 
thousand pardons for this lack of courtesy 
on the part of our artillery-men. Our 
batteries certainly could not have seen 
the white flag." This " lack of courtesy " 
cost two poor soldiers their lives ; and 
the officers saw them carried off on 
"ladders" made of crossed muskets. 
This Bavarian officer, Von Bronsart by 
name, took back to the King of Prussia 
from Sedan Napoleon's formal offer of 
capitulation. 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



251 



CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX. 



The Quarrel between Ducrot and Do Wimpffen. — The Interview with the Conquerors. — The Question of 
Alsatia Raised. — Divergence of ( (pinion between Bismarck and Von Moltke. — The French Council of 
War.— Napoleon's Departure from Sedan. — Napoleon as a Prisoner.— Bismarck's Interview with him. 
— Over the Battle-field. — Singular Appearance of the Dead. — King William on the Field. — His Meet- 
ing with Napoleon. — The M's in the Bonaparte History. 



WHEN the brave General De 
Wimpffen discovered that he had 
been deceived by the Emperor lie went 
at once to the Imperial head-quarters 
and demanded an audience. He was 
told that this was impossible, as His 
Majesty was in conference with the 
Prince Imperial. 

This the General knew to be a lie, as 
the young Prince had been for two days 
at Mezieres. Besides this was not a 
time for equivocation ; so he cried out 
angrily that he must see the Emperor at 
ouce ; and at last he succeeded in pass- 
ing all the guards. 

As soon as he entered the Imperial 
presence he said, "Sire, if I have lost 
the battle, and been conquered, it is 
because my orders have not been ex- 
ecuted, because your generals refused to 
obey me." 

No sooner had he said these words 
than General Ducrot, who was seated in 
a dark corner of the room, and whom 
General De Wimpffen had not seen when 
he came in, jumped up and stepped 
directly in front of his commanding 
officer. " What do you say? We re- 
fused to obey you ? To whom do you 
allude? Is it to me? Unfortunately your 
orders have been only too well executed. 
If we are on the brink of a frightful 
disaster, more frightful than anything 
we have ever dreamed of, it is your fool- 
ish presumption which has brought us 
there." 



General Ducrot was in a terrible pas- 
sion, and went on to say that if General 
De Wimpffen had not stopped his move- 
ment of retreat the French troops would 
now be safely at Mezieres, or, at least, 
out of the clutches of the enemy. Upon 
this, General De Wimpffen said that if 
that was the opinion of his friends, it 
was evident that he should no longer 
retain the position of commander-in- 
chief. 

But here a fresh surprise awaited him. 
General Ducrot was not at all of his 
opinion. " You took command this 
morning, when there was honor and 
profit to be got by it. I did not stand 
in your way, though I might, perhaps, 
have done so; but, at present, you can- 
not refuse to keep it. You alone must 
shoulder the shame of capitulation." 
" Monsieur le den*' rtil Ducrot itait trhs 
exaltd," says General De Wimpffen, in 
his account of the events at Sedan ; and 
he was, perhaps, excusable for his ex- 
citement, for, to be appointed to the 
command of a great army on the morn- 
ing of a battle, and. before one has time 
to get it into action, to be relieved of 
that command, is certainly enough to 
try the best of tempers. General De 
Wimpffen saw that he had a cross to 
bear, and that he might as well pick it 
up and go forward bravely with it. He 
was full of contempt for the feebleness 
of the Emperor's character in this criti- 
cal moment, and did not hesitate to show 



252 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

his feeling during the whole afternoon ing the rest of the war so terribly bitter 

and evening. on the part of the French. 

Nevertheless, he went off, as he was Had peace been made al Sedan, and 
ordered to do, to the German head- had the German armies retired without 
quarters, where he found Count Von pursuing their march towards Paris, and 
Bismarck aud the venerable Von Moltke. without exacting territorial conipensa- 
11c had taken with him General De Cas- tiou, they would perhaps have been 
telnau, one of Napoleon III. 's aides-de- hailed by large classes of the French 
camp, the mission of this gentleman people as the deliverers of the country 
being to ask for Napoleon personally the from the nightmare of the Empire. But 
least unfavorable conditions. This inter- the pride of the French was touched to 
view has been reported in divers versions the quick when Germany talked of tak- 
by General De Wimpffeu, General Du- ing Alsatia; and. reckless as it was to 
crot, and by Bismarck himself. But all declare, as the government did later on, 
auric in saying that it was during a con- that France would not yield up a stone 
versation at that time that the Germans of her fortresses or a handful of her ter- 
first raised the question of the cession of ritory, the declaration represented the 
Alsatia and of the German part of Lor- unanimous opinion of the nation at that 
mine. ••After some preliminary re- moment. General De Wimpffeu eon- 
marks, Count Von Bismarck coming ducted himself with becoming dignity 
to speak about the probabilities of during this difficult and vexatious inter- 
peace," says General De Wimpffeu in view, and asked for his troops which had 
his account, "declared to me that fought so well the conditions which had 
l'russia had a very firm intention of ex- been given in days cone by to the gar- 
acting not only a war indemnity of four risousof Mayence and Genoa and of Ulm ; 
milliards of francs, but more than that but Count Von Bismarck set this severe 
— the cession of Alsatia aud German condition: "The French army must lay 
Lorraine. "This is the only giuirantee down its arms and be sent into Ger- 
offeied us, because France is always many." Count Von Bismarck added that, 
threatening us, and we must have as a if this condition were not complied with, 
solid protection a. good advanced stra- tire would be opened at six o'clock in the 
tegieal line.'" morning. "Resistance," he told the 

It is probable that a good advanced unfortunate French delegates, " is quite 

strategical line was of more importance impossible; you have neither food nor 

in the eyes of the military ami political munitions; your army is decimated; 

authorities in Germany than the senti- our artillery is established in batteries 

mental aspects of the Alsatian question, around the whole town, and could blow 

This cool statement of Bismarck — that up your troops before they could make 

be intended to wrest from France one of the least movement of consequence." 

her fairest provinces and a goodly portion General De Wimpffeu told the conquer- 

of another — was not at first taken ors that France had not wished the war ; 

seriously by tin' French populations, that she was drawn into it by au agita- 

But, when they fully understood that it tion which was entirely on the surface; 

was the conqueror's wish to take Alsatia, that the French nation was more pacific 

a cry of horror and rebellion went up. than the Germans were pleased to 

It was this which made the feeling dlir- believe; that all its aspirations were 



EURorn iy storm axd calm. 



253 



towards industry, commerce, art, and, 
possibly, a little too much towards well- 
being and luxury. "Do not," he said, 
with significant emphasis, " force France 
to learn anew the trade of arms. If you 
exact only a just indemnity, and do not 
wound the patriotic fibre of France by 
asking for territorial cession, you will 
act well for the durable peace between 
our countries." But De Wimpffen, de- 
spite his eloquence, could obtain from 
the Germans no promise, save that the 
fire should be opened from the batteries 
at nine o'clock in the morning instead of 
six, if the conditions demanded were not 
complied with. 

At this juncture the Emperor's aide-de- 
camp begged to be heard, and Count 
Von Bismarck said he was now ready to 
listen to him. "The Emperor," said 
General Castelnau, " charged me to 
make the observation to His Majesty 
that lie had .sent him his sword without 

conditions, and had personally given 
himself up absolutely at his mercy ; but 
that he had acted so only in the hope 
that the King of Prussia would he 
touched by so complete a surrender, 
that be would know bow to appreciate 
it, and that in consideration of it be 
would be good enough to accord to the 
French army a more honorable capitu- 
lation, to which it had won the right by 
its courage." 

Count Yon Bismarck thought a mo- 
ment in silence ; then he said, " Is that 
all ? " 

The General answered that it was. 

" But whose is the sword that the 
Emperor Napoleon III. has given up?" 
said Bismarck. " Is it the sword of 
France, or is it his own particular 
sword? If it is that of France, the con- 
ditions can be singularly modified, and 
your message would have a very grave 
character." 



" It is only the sword of the Emperor." 
said General De Castelnau. 

At this point, according to the recital 
of General De Wimpffen and numerous 
other French versions. Count Von 
Moltke broke out quite joyfully: " In 
that case, nothing is to be changed in 
the conditions;" and lie added, "the 
Emperor will naturally obtain for his 
person whatever he is pleased to ask 
for." The French officers thought there 
might lie a secret divergence of opinion 
between Count Von Bismarck and Count 
Von Moltke; that the diplomat was not 
sorry to see the war Hearing its close; 
while the General, on the contrary, was 
anxious to continue. The French delight 
in picturing Von Moltke as a sinister 
and cruel old man, whose ambition is 
tempered in no sense by mercy, and who, 
to justify one of his mathematical cal- 
culations, would wade breast high in 
blood. 

When General De Wimpffen went 
back to the half-crazed inhabitants of 
Sedan they got down upon their knees 
to him and clutched his garments, and 
begged him not to sign the surrender. 
It was one o'clock in the morning on the 
2d of September when he knocked at 
the Emperor's door. The Emperor had 
gone to bed. Outside, the chain of hills 
was covered with corpses; the burning- 
village of Bazeilles sent up its smoke to 
heaven ; the French flag was dishonored ; 
the enemy's invasion was triumphant; 
the road to Paris was open ; the Empire 
was lost; but the Emperor had gone to 

bed : 

At six o'clock in the morning General 
De Wimpffen called a council of war of 
the generals commanding army corps, 
those commanding divisions, and those 
at the head of the artillery and engineer 
corps forming a part of it. The com- 
manding general briefly told his comrades 



25 1 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



the result of his mission. " From the 
very first words of our conversation," 
he said, •' 1 recognized that Count Yon 
Moltke, unfortunately, had a complete 
knowledge of our situation, and that he 
knew very well thai the army was out of 
food and munitions. Count Von Moltke 
told lnr that during the whole battle of 
yesterday we had fought an army of 
two hundred and twenty thousand men, 
which had surrounded us on all sides. 
'General,' he said, 'we are disposed 
to give your army, which has fought so 
well to-day, the most honorable condi- 
tions ; but they must be amenable to our 
government's policy. We demand the 
capitulation of the French army. It 
must be prisoner of war. The officers 
shall keep their swords and their personal 
property. The weapons of the soldiers 
must be deposited in some specified place 
in the town, to be given up to us.'" 
General De Wimpffen then asked his 
comrades if they thought it was possible 
still to go on with the fight. The ma- 
jority answered no; two Generals only 
expressed the opinion that the army 
should either defend itself within the 
fortress, or cut its way out at all hazards. 
They were told that the defense of Sedan 
was impossible, because of tin' lack of 
food; that the roads ami streets were 
so crowded with soldiers and baggage 
and ammunition wagons that if the 
enemy's lire were brought to hear upon 
the town there woiiid lie frightful car- 
nage, without any useful result ; ami so 
the two officers went oyer to the ma- 
jority. 

Shortly after this council of war bloke 

up there was a murmur in the crowd, and 
a carriage made its way slowly through 
the thrones. This carriage contained 
the Emperor with three Generals, who 
were conversing with him in subdued 
tones. The Emperor was in uniform, 



wearing the grand cordon of the Legion 
of Honor. lie was quite pale, but be- 
trayed no emotion ; and his attention 
was absorbed by a cigarette, which he 
was tranquilly rolling. For a moment 
after the carriage had appeared it seemed 
as if the crowds of soldiers anil citizens 
who were thoroughly enraged against 
the Imperial occupant of the vehicle 
were about to spline upon the author of 
their woes ami tear him to pieces; but 
no one made a movement. A footman 
in green livery pushed his way insolently 
through the masses. Behind the car- 
riage came grooms covered with gold 
lace and braid; in fact, the Emperor 
went to his imprisonment in the same 
style with which he used to arrive on 
the lawn of Longchamp on the day of 
the Grand Prix. 

One single voice cried " ViveVEmpe- 
reur!" A citizen threw himself in front 
of the horses, seized by the legs a 
corpse which was stretched in the middle 
of the street, and dragged it hastily aside. 
Napoleon passed on to his surrender. 

At ten o'clock General De Wimpffen 
returned to the Prussian head-quarters, 
and there found Napoleon, who had not 
yet been able to see the King of Prussia, 
and who was waiting for the signature 
of the capitulation before he could have 
his interview. 

Although the terms of this most im- 
portant surrender of modern times have 
been often published, it may be well to 
quote them here. 

PROTOCOL. 

Between the Undersigned — 

The chief of the general staff of His Majesty 
King William, Commander-in-Chief of the 
German Army, ami the Genera] Commander-in- 
Chief of the French armies, both furnished with 
tall powers from their Majesties Kins; William 
ami the Emperor Napoleon, the following con- 
vention has been concluded : — 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



00 



Article 1. The army placed under the 
orders of General De Wimpffen being at present 
surrounded by superior forces about Sedan is 
a prisoner of war. 

Article 2. Considering the valorous de- 
fence of this army, exception is made lor all 
the generals arid officers, as well as for the 
special employes having the rank of officers, 
who will engage their written word of honor 
not to hear arms against Germany ami to act 
in no manner against its interests up to the 
close of the present war. Officers anil em- 
ployes who accept these conditions shall keep 
their arms ami their personal property. 

Article 3. All other arms, as well as the 
material of the army, consisting of flags, eagles, 
cannons, horses, army equipage, munitions, 
etc. shall he delivered up at Sedan to a military 
commission appointed by the commander-in- 
chief, to be given over immediately to the Ger- 
man commissioner. 

Article 4. The fortress of Sedan shall 
next be given up in its present condition, and 
not later than the evening of the 2d of Septem- 
ber, ami placed at the disposition of His Maj- 
esty the King of Prussia. 

Article 5. Officers who do not make the 
engagement mentioned in Article 2, as well a< 
the disarmed troops, shall he conducted away 
as prisoners classed with their regiments and 
corps and in military order. This measure 
will begin on the 2d of September and finish 
on the 3d. This detachment will he conducted 
on to the hanks of the Mouse, near Iges, there 
to he handed over to the German commission- 
ers by their officers, who will then give the 
command to their sub-officers. Military 
physicians, without exception, shall remain be- 
hind to take care ot the wounded. 

Given at Fresnois, the 2d of September, 
1870. 

Signed. De Wimpffen. 

Von Moltke. 

This was the end of the military his- 
tory of the Second Empire. 

" This surrender," says the eminent 
German writer Von Wickede, " is the 
most important known in military his- 
tory. It is a greater one than, that of 
the Saxons at Konigstein ; of the Prus- 
sian General Fink, at Mayence, in the 
Seven Years' War ; of the Austrian Gen- 



eral Mack, near Ulm, in 1805; of the 
Prussian General Prince Hohenlohe, at 
Prenslau, in 1806 ; of the French < General 
Dupout, in 1809, at Baylen ; or of the 
Hungarian General Goergey, in 1849, at 
Yillagos." The French, in short, gave 
up to the enemy at Sedan the Emperor, 
one French marshal, thirty-nine generals, 
two hundred and thirty officers of the 
general stall', two thousand and ninety- 
five officers, eighty-four thousand four 
hundred and thirty-three sub-officers and 
soldiers ; four hundred field-pieces, one 
hundred and eighty other cannon, and 
thirty thousand quintals of powder. The 
Germans did not succeed in attaining 
this result without the vigorous employ- 
ment of two hundred and forty thou- 
sand troops, assisted from first to last 
in the most intelligent manner by the 
operations of a tremendous artillery 
corps witli live hundred cannon. 

Both Count Von Bismarck and King 
William have given to (he world their 
impressions of the curious events of the 
2d of September. Bismarck, in his 
report to the King of Prussia, written 
from Donehery, says that General 
Reille came to him at six o'clock in the 
morning to say that the Emperor wished 
to see him, and had already left Sedan 
to come to him. Bismarck went forward 
about half way between Donehery and 
Sedan, near Fresnois, to meet the Em- 
peror. " His Majesty was in an open 
carriage. Beside him were three supe- 
rior officers, while several others were 
on horseback near the carriage. Among 
these Generals, I knew personally Gen- 
erals Castelnau, Reille, — Moskau, who 
seemed (o be wounded, — and Vaubert. 
When I reached the carriage I got 
down from my horse, stepped up to the 
door, and asked what were His Majesty's 
orders. The Emperor expressed his 
desire to see Your Majesty. He ap- 



25G EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

peared b> have thought Your Majesty After a further conversation, in which 
was also at DoncheTy. I told him that Napoleon plainly saw that he had little 
Your Majesty's head-quarters were at to hope from the flexibility of his adver- 
Vendresse, three mill's away. Then the suit, he went out and sat down in front 
Emperor asked it' Your Majesty had of the house, inviting Bismarck to sit 
fixed a place I" which he could go, and beside him. He then asked Bismarck 
what was my opinion about the matter, if it were possible to let the French army 
I answered that 1 had arrived here in cross the Belgian frontier, so as to be 
complete darkness, that the country disarmed by the Belgians. "I had 
was. consequently, entirely unknown to discussed this matter the previous even- 
me, bill that I placed at His Majesty's ing," wrote Bismarck, "with General 
disposition the house I occupied at Don- Von Moltke ; I therefore refused to enter 
chery, and that 1 would leave it at once, into this matter with the Emperor. 1 
The Emperor accepted my otter, and did not take the initiative in the discus- 
went on to Doncliery. But lie stopped siou of the political situation. The Em- 
it few hundred paces from the bridge peror only alluded to it to deplore the 
over the Meuse, leading into the town, evil of the war, and to declare that he 
before a workman's house, which was himself had not wished for war, but that 
completely isolated, and he asked me he had been forced into it by the pressure 
it' he could not stop there." Count Von of public opiuiou in France." 
Bismarck had this house examined, and Between nine and ten o'clock in the 
found thai it was a miserable hovel half morning, the cMteau of Bellevue, near 

filled with wounded and dying soldiers. Fresnois was chosen as the place to 

Bui the Emperor halted there, and in- receive the Imperial prisoner. Count 

vited Bismarck to follow him into the Von Bismarck accompanied the Emperor 

house. There, ill a little room, fur- thither, preceded by an escort taken 

nished with only a table and two chairs, from the King of Prussia's cuirassiers 

the fallen Emperor and the successful regiment. Here General De Wimpffen 

diplomat had a conversation of an hour's and most of the members of Count Von 

duration. The Emperor insisted on his Mol tke's staff were assembled, and here 

desire to get the best terms for the ea- Napoleon remained, until the capitulation 

pitulation. Bismarck told him that lie was signed. 

could not negotiate about such matters, Theold King of Prussia, who had been 

as the military question had to be en- saluted everywhere throughout his army 

lirelv decided between Generals Von on the previous evening with the echoes 

Moltke and De Wimpffen; but he asked of the national hymn, and with impromptu 

the Emperor if he was disposed to negoti- illuminations, went out at eight o'clock 

nte lor peace. The Emperor said, as a in the morning to look over the field of 

prisoner, he was not in a situation to battle. As he arrived on the field he 

enter into negotiations. Bismarck then saw Aon ".Moltke coming to meet him, 

asked him what, in his opinion, was the and there learned of Napoleon's depart- 

representative power in France at that ure from Sedan. "About ten o'clock," 

time: and the Emperor suggested the be savs in his account. •• 1 came ouf 

government existing in Paris, meaning upon the heights near Sedan. At noon, 

the regencj of the Empress with her Count Von Moltke and Bismarck came 

advisers. to me with the treaty of capitulation. At 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



2bl 



one o'clock, I started with Fritz (the 
name by which he always mentioned the 
Crown Prince) escorted by the cavalry 
of the general staff. I got down from 
my horse in front of the cJidteau, and 
the Emperor came out to meet me. The 
interview lasted about a quarter of an 
hour. We were both very much moved 
by meeting under such circumstances. 
I cannot express all I felt when I remem- 
bered that three years before I had seen 
the Emperor at the very height of his 
power." 

After this brief interview, the old 
King, followed by his brilliant staff, 
continued his journey across the battle- 
field. From Bazeilles to Illy, the hills 
and the fields were literally covered with 
dead men. Everywhere were dismounted 
cannon, broken guns, pillaged haver- 
sacks, ruined drums; here in the fields 
of beet-root or in the lines between the 
gardens, were heaps of men with their 
heads blown into fragments or their 
entrails escaping from gapiug wounds 
in their abdomens. Here were men who 
had been struck dead in the act of kneel- 
ing to fire their guns ; and a writer, who 
went over the field of battle on this day, 
says that many of the corpses occupying 
still in death the attitude of life made 
the field of battle resemble a. field peopled 
with wax figures. A visitor went up to a 
captain of the Twentieth of the French 
line, who was seated at the foot of a tree, 
holding his head in his hands, and ap- 
parently bending over a letter which he 
was holding open. The visitor touched 
the man on the shoulder, and the body 
fell forward. The officer had been dead 
for hours. 

Those who have been witnesses of a 
great battle, or who have been over a 
battle-field shortly after the collision, 
remember how they shrank instinctively 
from the first spectacles of horror, but 



how readily they became accustomed to 
the evidences of carnage, and how, little 
by little, a thirst for the accumulation of 
horrors stole upon them. One becomes 
rapidly accustomed to the sight of [tiled- 
tip heaps of corpses, to the carcasses of 
horses torn and harrowed by shell and 
by bullets, to the village street with its 
evidences at every step of a sanguinary, 
hand-to-hand encounter, and to the little 
rivulets into which the blood has poured so 
as to turn their gurgling currents a pale- 
red. On tlic field of Sedan, death was 
in hundreds of cases hideous, ami beyond 
description, for the shell-tire had been 
something more terrible than was known 
in any previous modern battle. Hun- 
dreds of heads were torn off, limbs were 
rent from their bodies, brains were scat- 
tered on the ground. Down by Bazeilles, 
companies had been literally torn to 
pieces. 

The French, for a long time after the 
battle of Sedan, published horrible tales 
of the massacre of women and children 
in Bazeilles by the Bavarians, and con- 
tinued to assert that hundreds of innocent 
persons were burned alive when the 
village was set on tire. That there was a 
frightful carnage in and about Bazeilles, 
no one would presume to deny ; but that 
the Germans deliberately burned any of 
the inhabitants is not susceptible of 
proof. General VonderTann felt called 
upon to defend himself and his troops 
from the charge of supreme cruelty which 
had been brought against him, and his 
official report shows that, out of the total 
civil population of Bazeilles during the 
light, the number of dead, wounded, and 
disappeared was thirty-nine, and the only 
persons burned or suffocated during the 
conflagration were two bedridden women, 
three men, and three children. 

(ieneral Von der Tann is the person- 
age who, when he was asked by his 



258 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM 



Bavarians if they might sack a certain 
town in the south of France, in the Loire 
district, where they had been rather 
roughly handled, answered, "Sack it 
moderately ! Sack il moderately." 1 was 
told tiiis at Versailles by a person who 
heard il s:iid. 

On the :'>d of September, at seven 
o'clock in the morning, the fallen 
Napoleon set out from the Chateau of 
Bellevue for Germany by way of Bel- 
gium. His load led him past the most 
frightful part of the battle-field, and he 
must have been struck with the irony of 
destiny when he remembered thai not a 
great many years before he had affirmed 
in a speech in a French city that the 
Empire meant peace. The greeting of 
the Emperor on nis way through Bel- 
gium was, on the whole, cordial, and he 
was repeatedly cheered, though in one 
or two cities he was hooted, lie ar- 
rived in Bouillon at live o'clock in the 
afternoon on the 3d of September, and 
from thence went by rail t<> Liege, 
Cologne, and Cassel. where the beauti- 
ful castle of Wilhelmshohe had been 
made ready for him. Among the < lener- 
als who accompanied him into his 
captivity were Generals Douet, Lebrun, 
Castelnau, De Reille, DeVaubert, Prince 
Nev, Prince Marat, Prince Moskowa, 
and twenty other officers of various 
grades. A number of high Prussian 
officers were also in his train. His 
servants, carriages, and about eighty- 
five horses followed in a separate train. 
The carriage in which the Emperor trav- 
elled to his captivity was simply a 
saloon belonging to the Luxembourg 
railway, ami often used by the Prince 
of Flanders. It was divided into three 

Compartments, one chief central saloon, 
and two small eoupis. The Emperor 
occupied one of the latter, and rarely 
left it during the journey. He wore the 



uniform of a French general ; his breast 
was covered with a number of orders. 
It was said that he had to borrow from 
the Prussian general who accompanied 
him to Cassel 10,000 francs, in order 
to give gratuities in the manner custom- 
ary to emperors under any circum- 
stances. This was certainly a sad fall 
for a monarch who. three weeks pre- 
viously, had enjoyed the largest civil list 
in Europe. 

The reception of the Emperor in Ger- 
many was respectful, though at Cologne 
the officers who accompanied him had to 
restrain the crowd, who were inclined to 
a hostile demonstration. Some of the 
German papers remarked that Napoleon 
was treated with singular kindness by a 
people who hail, through him alone, lost 
150,000 sons, brothers, and husbands. 
The papers were tilled with joyful quips 
and jests, all bearing more or less upon 
tin' captivity of the Emperor. At the 
beginning of the war a German sent 
two louis for King William's Verein for 
the wounded in Berlin, adding to his 
contribution these words, which became 
prophetic: "I give two louis with a 
will to King William's good Verein. lie 
who will send the third Louis in is King 
William, 1 opine." This doggerel lie- 
came very popular in Germany, and the 
Verein in time acknowledged the receipt 
of the third Louis. 

The selection of Wilhelmshohe, or 
William's Height, as a residence for the 
ex-Emperor during his captivity was the 
subject of much comment in the German 
press. This is one of the most beauti- 
ful residences in Germany. It is some- 
times called the Versailles of Cassel. 
The palace is a low Imt extensive build- 
ing, full of beautiful works of art. 
paintings, tapestries, marbles, just as 
they were left by the Elector of Han- 
over in 1866, when he fell a prisoner to 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



259 



. 






King William of Prussia. It was here, lost its kink, and lump; loosely down 
too, that Napoleon III.'s uncle, King to the corners of the month. The 
Jexdme, stayed during his sojourn man of the I'd of December hail be- 
in Westphalia from 1807 to 181:;. come the man of the 2d of Septem- 
JeiVime had done much to make Wil- ber, after a reign of eighteen years, 
helmshohe resemble Versailles. On Na- less one quarter, neither a day more 
poleon's arrival at the railway 
station at Cassel he was re- 
ceived with royal honors. A 
company of the Eightieth regi- 
ment of infantry saluted him 
just as they would have saluted 
the King of Prussia. The 
heads of the civil and military 
departments met him and gave 
him an official welcome. Na- 
poleon looked weary and as if 
he suffered from liver com- 
plaint. His eyes were dull 
and his walk was heavy. A 
single hussar rode before his 
carriage as he was taken to 
the castle. Soldiers turned 
out and received him with 
drums sounding and presented 
arms. Dinner was laid for 
twenty persons, and Napoleon 
and his suite did ample justice to the 
viands spread before them. The King of 
Prussia sent down his own cook and first 
chamberlain and several of his servants 
from Berlin to Wilhelmshohe, and all 
were ordered to pay the greatest atten- 
tion to their guest. Here Napoleon 
seemed suddenly struck with old age. 
He passed entire mornings, now bent 
over in an easy-chair napping and mus- 
ing, now iu a long gallery of the con- 
servatory, leaning upon a cane or on the 
arm of his faithful doctor, Conneau. 
As in the words of one who saw him 
at Wilhelmshohe only a few days after 
his arrival there, he had grown old, weak, 
spare, and his hair was gray. The 
Napoleonic curl had disappeared, the 
characteristic Napoleon moustache had 




NAPOLEON III. 



PRISONER 
HOHE. 



AT WII.IIKLMS 



nor a day less, as old Nostradamus 
prophesied. 

The German writers, indulging in 
various caprices about the war. discov- 
ered that it was not strange that Moltke 
should have vanquished Napoleon, lie- 
cause the letter M plays a great rdle iu 



2(50 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

the history of tbe Napoleons. Marbceuf, simo, Mondovi, Marengo, on the Mos- 

say these plodding Germans, was the kowa, Mireil, Montepean, and Montenau. 

first to recognize the genius of Napoleon Milan was the first ami Moskowa the last 

I. in tin' young military scholar. Ma- place which he entered as victor. At 

rengo was the first great battle of General Si. Helena Montholon was his flrsl 

Bonaparte; Mains cleared out of Italy chamberlain, and Marchant his compan- 

before him; Mortier was his favorite ion. He lost Egypt through Menon, and 

general; Moreau betrayed him; Mural took the Pope prisoner through Meiolles. 

was his flrsl martyr; Marie Louis; 1 , the He was conspired against by Mallet; and 

companion of his greatest fortune ; Mos- three of his ministers were called Maret, 

ccnv his deepest abyss ; and Melleun a Montalivet, and Mallieu. His last resi- 

diplomat whom he could not master, dence in France was Malma ison. Look- 

Massena, Mortier, Marmont, MacDon- ing up the M's in the history of Napoleon 

aid, Marat, and Marcey were among his III., the Germans begin with what they 

marshals ; and twenty-six of his division call the French defeats at Metz, then 

generals had M as the initial letter of the disaster at Sedan under MacMahon ; 

their names. His first battle was at then the generalship of Moltke; and so 

Montermolt; his last, Mont St. Jean, at they go on in their innocent array of 

Waterloo, lie won the battles of Micles- alliteration. 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CM \l. 



261 



CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN. 



A Solemn Situation. — Return of the Exiles.— The Spoils at the Tuileries. — Advance of the i icrmans. — 
The Military Strength of the French Capital. — The Sixteenth Siege of Paris. — Closing in. — 
( 'in ions Fights in the Capital. General Trochu's Review. — A Visit to Asnieres. — Prussian Prison- 
ers. — The Fight at Chalillou. — The French Retreat. — The Occupation of Versailles. — The 
Crown Prince of Prussia visits the Old Home of Louis XIV. 



A GREAT silence fell upon Paris 
for a few days after the declara- 
tion of the Republic. People came and 
went as if they were carrying heavy 
loads. The responsibilities of the mo- 
ment weighed upon every one's shoulders 
alike. Men had awakened from a 
ill ram, and were facing a harsh reality ; 
the enemy was in front, and civil war. 
despite the greatest vigilance and 
adroitness on the part of the political 
managers, was beginning to appear in 
the background. "France," said a 
w Titer in the •• Revue des Deux Mondes" 
in describing these days, " lias taken 
possession of herself once more, with- 
out battle, without bloodshed, and by 
a kind of sudden effort of patriotism 
and despair in presence of the enemy." 
Gambetta's proclamation announcing 
the formation of the government of 
National Defence was received with 
general favor, but without much ap- 
plause in Paris. The great capital had 
spent till its enthusiasm on the day of 
the 4th ; Marseilles went wild with joy ; 
Montpellier, Havre, Valence, Nantes, 
and Lyons gave themselves up to re- 
joicings, which were perhaps reasonable 
enough, as all these cities fancied that 
Paris would now take " the deliverance 
in hand," and would carry it trium- 
phantly to a close. The city of Lille 
sent a despatch to the capital saying 
that the population of Paris had de- 
served well of the country. Gambetta 



sent the new representative of the 
people to penetrate into besieged Stras- 
bourg and take his place there as pre- 
fect of the Republic. Victor Hugo came 
home from exile, and had a temperate 
ovation at the Northern railway station, 
where he had made a speech saying that 
" Paris could never be captured by as- 
sault; " and it is noteworthy that the 
Prussians did not try to demonstrate 
the untruth of this remark. The old 
poet had said, before his return, " I 
shall inscribe myself as a national 
guard in the ward where I shall take 
up 111 v abode, and I will go on to the 
ramparts with my gun on my shoulder.' 
He brought back with him the almost 
old-fashioned phraseology, which was 
considered so vigorous and manly when 
he left Prance- after the coup d'lStat. 
In his train came the other men who 
had been proscribed during the reign 
of Louis Napoleon, Edgar Quinet and 
Louis Blanc, whose first visit was to 
Jules Favre, who had been instrumental 
in getting him sent into exile. The 
more enlightened Radicals forgot their 
own quarrels with the moderate Repub- 
licans, and rallied with them to the 
defence of the country. The recogni- 
tion of the new Republic by the minister 
of the United States was eminently 
gratifying to the little group of depu- 
ties who had undertaken so formidable 
a task. 

A committee was intrusted with the 



2G-2 



EVROrE IX STORM AND CALM. 



examination of the great Dumber of pri- uon, if necessary, be mounted on its 
vate papers found in the palace of the walls? "A simple line of soldiers placed 
Tuileries, and was instructed to publish outside the reach of the guns, and par- 
them for the information of the public, allel to the outer works," said the military 
But the papers found had no relation to authorities, " would require ninety-sis 
the mysterious scandals or the social thousand men!" How then could the 
dramas so frequent under the Empire. Prussians bring up a force tremendous 
The committee discovered that in Na- enough to establish a siege of Paris? The 
poleon's library an elaborate memoir cit\ was divided into five great military 
deslined lo enlighten the Emperor of centres internally: and each of these 
the French on the state of the mili- centres was in itself a detached fort. 
tar y forces of the Confederation of the Within and without, the noble citadel 
north of Germany had scarcely been was strong. Besides, could not the bun- 
touched, hui that Roman medals, bits dreds of thousands of men within the 
of history and inscriptions, calculated to walls swoop out by night and crush the 
figure in the work on Caesar, with which daring invader? It was evident that be- 
the Emperor had amused himself, and fore the walls of Paris the country was 
romantic projects, like that for annexa- to lie avenged. Whether on the side 
tion of Belgium, had absorbed the im- towards the Marne — where were the 
perial attention. In the library of the formidable redoubts of Noisy, Martreuil, 
Empress the evidence of the ultra-cleri- Boissiere, and Fontenay, and where the 
cal turn of her mind was to be found on famous camp of St. Mauv was en- 
everv hand. The bones of saints ami trenched : whether away beyond on the 
pious relics were hung upon the walls, corner made by the junction of the Seine 

and contrasted strangely with the painted and the .Manic, where stood the pr 1 

ceilings tilled with Cupids and figures of fort of Charent including within its 

gods and goddesses. The works of Pr 1- walls a space for the encampment of two 

hoi) were side by side with the fantastic hundred thousand men ; or whether. 

romances of the eighteenth century again, upon the southward line, on the 

or severe treatises on religious duty. left bank' of the Seine, where stood ill 

■• There was." says a French writer. ■• a stout brotherhood the torts of Ivry, 

curious mixture of rice-powder and in- Biefitre, Montrouge, and Vanves ; or, 

cense in the Kmpress's boudoir, quite yri again, upon the western line, strong 

characteristic of this Spanish piety." by nature, and stronger still with its 

All this time the Prussians were com- proud Mont Valerien, the prince of Pari- 

ing rapidly on, and provincial troops siau strongholds, controlling all the coun- 

were pouring into Paris, the only great try round about — there might lie an 

rallying point now left. These country attack, there seemed no cause for appre- 

folk, — the Bretons, the Bourguignous, in hension. Mere was a grand " circum- 

Ihcir blue blouses, the stalwart men of ference line." thirty mile- long, around 

Auvergue, and the lithe and sinewy chil- which there was complete telegraphic 

dreuof the south, felt a new confidence as communication, and from which there 

they set their feet within the walls of the were subterranean passages for sorties, 

capital. For how could it he taken? Citizens and the soldiers felt a kind 

Had it not sixteen hundred regular siege- of joy in the prospect of the coming 

guns? and could not live thousand can- conflict, and never dreamed of failure. 



KJ-RDPE r.V STORM AND CALM. 



■li\?, 



General Trochu began to talk about the 
" useless mouths." and to send out of 
the city day by day large processions of 
vagabonds, of suspected persons, of 
women and children who were likely to 
fail of means of support. Every one 
who remained was expected to contrib- 
ute heartily to the sturdy defence, and, 
possibly, to offensive movements. 

This was the sixteenth siege of Paris. 
In the year 53, B.C., Labienus, the 
energetic lieutenant of Julius Caesar, 
laid siege to the island on which the 
Lutetians had built the Paris of (hat day, 
and so worried them that, alter a time, 
they burned their town, and retired :is 
best they could. Five hundred and 
thirty years after this siege the Romans 
held the town, and Childeric, the first 
chief of the Franks, east covetous eyes 
upon the long rows of noble buildings 
spread out on either bank of the Seine; 
and, by-and-by. he laid siege with suc- 
cess. Then came the Normans in 865 ; 
and they pillaged church and monastery, 
and threw many of the inhabitants into 
the flames. Driven out. they came 
again shortly after; and this time, the 
Parisians repeated, tin' trick of their 
forefathers, the Lutetians, — they burned 
their own town, and retreated. Once 
more, in st;i. an enormous band of 
Norman brigands arrived to pillage 
Paris, besieged it, and took it, but 
found little therein About (his time. 
the idea of extensive fortifications arose, 
and walls were built in haste ; but before 
they were completed, back came the 
persistent Normans, with an army of 
thirty thousand men, and laid a siege 
which lasted two years. As the Nor- 
mans were about to retire. Charles le 
Gros capitulated, to his own dreadful 

disgrace, and made a shameful pet : 

whereupon he was impeached and lost 
his throne. 



In 1358 the Dauphin tried in vain to 
take Talis, and in the following year 
the King of England tried, and had also 
to 'jive it up. lint in 1425 the English 
had better success, and Lutetia bowed 
her neck to them for fourteen years. 
In 1427 Charles VII. tried to reconquer 
the city ; but the English laughed him to 
scorn. In 1462 the Duke of Burgundy 
ravished all the country around, and sat 
down to a siege, but had poor luck. In 
1464 tlie Comte De Charlois surrounded 
the city with his meu-at-arms, but soon 
went away crestfallen. In 1536 Charles 
Quint, the then king, battered down the 
walls. Under Henry 111. and Henry 
IV. Paris sustained the world-renowned 
siege of 1593; and in IMI the allies, 
after a short delay outside the gates, 
rambled at their own sweet will through 
the avenues of the town. 

One of the sights in the gardens and 
public parks during these few days, 
between the declaration of the Republic 
and the final investing of the city, was 
the daily chill of the citizens. Thou- 
sands of men, dressed in their even-day 
clothes, with blue sashes tied about their 
waists, ami numbers on their breasts, 
went awkwardly, but with great deter- 
mination, through the military evolutions 
under the directions of angular sergeants, 
who never smiled, no matter how ridicu- 
lous the butcher and the baker looked in 
their soldier clothes. The National 
Guard, in its stiff, tall hats, and its blue 
uniforms, daily did twelve hours' duty on 
the fortifications. The hotel-keepers, 
the merchants, the tradesmen of all 
classes, shut up their shops, and re- 
nounced all idea, of profit. The Turcos 
ami the Spahis. some eighteen thousand 
strong, were praised and f&tecl wherever 
they went within the city. Hundreds 
of refugees from the environs of Sois- 
sons, fugitives from Sedan, people who 



2fi4 



EUROPE TX STORM AND CALM, 



were half -starred, covered with dust, and 
in many cases with mud, their garments 
in tatters, came straggling in. I saw 
men who had been without food for days, 
and who sobbed over the bits of bread. 
The most affecting spectacle was the 
daily arrival of the peasant families from 
the little towns around Paris. They 
came in by hundreds upon hundreds, 
General Trochu growling, and announc- 
ing his intention to pass them on through 
the city to a safer part of France. But, 
poor things! they never left the com- 
fortable shelter of the walls when once 
within. They camped in sheds, in grana- 
ries, in railway carriages no longer in use, 
in cafe's, v hieli the proprietors generously 
offered them. There were ten thousand 
refugees from Strasbourg alone. 

All the beggars drove a thriving trade 
in tricolor Republican " liberty- trees" 
and caricatures of the deposed Emperor. 
If a wounded soldier stopped on the 
street to talk, he was surrounded at 
once by hundreds of eager listeners, 
and he usually got a hatful of money. 
The populations refused to believe that 
MacMahon was not dead. The story 
that lie was a prisoner was distasteful. 
On the Champ de Mars thousands of 
troops paraded ; along the river opposite 
Tioeadeio a huge stockade was placed ; 
and on the heights of Passy fortifica- 
tions bristled. 

On the 14th of September General 
Trochu held a, review, and the array of 
forces was certainly imposing. Even 
the Parisians, with their tendency to ex- 
aggerate the numbers of their defenders, 
had noi believed that the town contained 
such a gigantic army. The line of 
troops extended from the Are de Tri- 
omphe to the Bastile, and numbered 

three hundred thousand men. And 
what a chattering, motley, noisy line of 
troops it was '. Every complexion and 



every accent and dialect in France were 
represented. Jules Favre and the other 
members of the Provisional ( iovernmenl , 
as il was then called, had wished to ac- 
company General Trochu as he rode 
along the line ; but he had objected, and 
said, " You cannot ride, and you do not 
want to make yourselves ridiculous be- 
fore the Parisians." Si non £ vero <' ben 
troruto, for Favre and Gambetta would 
have looked rather absurd caricoling be- 
fore the National Guard and the Com- 
munists in esse. Immense crowds of 
women, nil wearing the tricolor, and all 
babbling like magpies, followed the Gen- 
eral and his staff, commenting and chaf- 
fing the workmen and the bourgeois, and 
indulging in lively curses upon the in- 
vading Prussians. 

On the day after the review I went 
out at dusk to Asnieres, to discover 
whether the bridges over the Seine were 
to he Mown up, and! found thousands 
of men. half-naked, toiling on the outer 
works of the fortifications. As yet there 
was no water in the ditches; but it 
was only the work" of a i\'\\ hours to till 
the moats. The walls looked more 
formidable than ever before. Here the 
approaches were distinctly difficult. As 
1 arrived outside the walls the sunset 
had cast a certain glory on the western 
sky that threw everything into relief, 
except the dark outlines of the gigantic 
fort of Mont Yalerien : and this rose 
through a kind of tremulous mist, frown- 
ing and sombre. The hills and woods 
beyond made a, black background, into 
which the greal mass of masonry slowly 
melted, and was lost to view. For the 
first time I realized that Paris is a forti- 
fied city. On whichever side I gazed I 
saw a grim, high wall, with a black- 
nosed cannon leering from its top, 
stretching away, and the sentinels prom- 
enading, — vainglorious cockneys, no 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



261 



,.. 



doubt, but willing to do their best for the 
defense of their country. Asnieres was 
deserted ; the pretty water-side villas 
were empty; there was nothing to eat 
in the town. I had to satisfy two or 
three venerable fanatics that I was not 
a spy, after which they told me that the 
Prussian Lancers hail been seen the day 
before in the neighborhood of Bas 
Meudon anil Sevres, and that the treas- 
ures of porcelain had been brought in 
great haste from the factory at Sevres 
into Paris. 

Next morning, when I went out upon 
the street, I found all Paris in emotion. 
All my French friends wen' livid with 
excitement. The advance of the Ger- 
man army had appeared close to Paris ; 
some Prussian prisoners had been taken, 
and weic now on the streets. 1 icing 
paraded up and down. 1 went to see 
them. Near the Cafe American! stood 
one of eight Uhlans, who had been dis- 
mounted, wounded, and captured. lie 
had been allowed to retain his lance, as 
his captors fancied that this would give 
him an artistic flavor. The crowd, above 
which he towered like a Brobdignag, was 
enormous; and some of the market- 
women, who had been having a perpetual 
holiday since the declaration of the Re- 
public, cried out, "Down with them! 
Death to them !" But no one offered vio- 
lence. Some of the prisoners afterwards 
complained that they had hail their 
decorations torn off ; but none of them 
were hurt. The moment any one at- 
tempted to incite to bloodshed, a man 
would climb up to the nearest elevated 
point and "entreat his brethren not to 
bring disgrace on to the Republic;" 
whereupon everybody would shout for 
order, and the amiable goddess. Reason, 
would resume her throne. 

As soon as the Germans were signalled 
in the immediate vicinity, fires were set 



in the forests as a w: ruing to the popu- 
lations that had not already retreated. 
This measure was misunderstood in 
Paris, and was attributed to the van- 
dalism of the Prussians; and thousands 
of people flocked up to the heights of 
Montmartre to see the fires and to pro- 
claim that the Prussians as they came in 
were burning all the villages right and 
left. In the wood of Montmorency, at 
Stains, and at Le Bourget, the tires 
raged for hours. All along the route 
from Drancy to Bondy, innumerable 
small fires, like ground stars, were 
twinkling. The rumors were magnified 
as they drifted down from the heights of 
Montmartre to the grand boulevards, 
and the Parisians went to rest that night 
convinced that the Prussians had burned 
at least, a hundred towns, whereas they 
had really burned nothing at all. 

On the loth, as a passenger train 
rolled into the station of Scnlis, it was 
taken by the Prussians. On the same 
day, near C'hantilly, another train was 
shot at by Prussians posted along the 
line ; and in the afternoon the governor 
of Paris received a despatch from 
Vincennes, saying that the advance- 
guard of a huge German column had 
been seen between Creteil and Neuilly 
on the Marne. This looked very much 
as if Paris would shortly be invested. 

On the 16th the Orleans line was cur. 
On the 17th a Prussian detachment 
crossed the Seine at Choisy-le-Roi ; on 
tin' 18th a strong column crossed the 
river at Villeneuve St. Georges. Here 
there was an encounter, which the jour- 
nals of Paris at the time called the first 
battle near the capital. I found, on the 
evening of the 18th, thai I had to choose 
between i imprisonment in Paris during 
the siege, and the chance-, of witnessing 
the operations from without. I deter- 
mined to visit the lines in front of 



266 EUROPE LV STORM AND CALM. 

Strasbourg, and then, if possible, to who had attacked the Gei'man column as 
make my way through the occupied it was moving along the highway. The 
country, to the German head-quarters, a forests in the neighborhood of Sceaux, 
trip which, 1 thought, would occupy at Bagneux, and Clamart had uol been 
best three or four days, but which thinned away to allow of military move- 
proved much longer and more difficult raents ; and the Germans readily found 
than I had imagined. shelter there. " Ambuscaded behind the 

I left Taris on the evening of the trees." says Claretie, " the Prussians 

18th by one of the last trains which tired exactly as they did at Forbach, 

went out of the capital, and the last directly into the masses of advancing 

woids I heard within the walls were: French troops. The disaster was great. 

" It will all be over in a fortnight. The Some of our Mobile battalions fired into 

Germans will be pushed back. They the 16th French line, while the Zouaves, 

cannot resist the tremendous forces formed out of the remnants of the regi- 

withiu the capital." I went to Rouen, ments of the Ardennes, lied in disorder, 

from thence to Dieppe, thence to Dover, panic-stricken, throwing away their guns, 

thence to Ostend, and so presently and dragging with them in this preeipi- 

fotind myself again in Germany and on tate retreat the greater part of the army, 

the way to Strasbourg. A regiment of cavalry composed of 

If it bad not been for the unfortunate cuirassiers, of carabinicrs, of chasseurs, 

affair at Chatillon, the prophecy which I of gendarmes, a mixed regiment, which, 

heard as I left the walls of Paris might in its picturesque amalgamation gave a 

have proved true; but the rapidly ad- melancholy idea of the few forces left to 

vancing enemy, which oughl to have France — this regiment tried to stop the 

received a severe check, was allowed to runaways. The artillery kept its posi- 

effect an easy victory in its endeavor to tiou, and bravely answered the German 

take the plateau of Chatillon ; and it was batteries; but it was all in vain: the 

not only successful in doing this, but it troops wavered and fled. From the 

created a veritable panic among the heights of the redoubt of Chatillon, so 

1 lv disciplined troops with whom hastily abandoned by us, the German 

it came into contact. On the 18th of batteries .sent their shells into our dis- 
September, General Duerot, who had ordered regiments." 
already escaped from the Prussian lines 31. Francisque Sarcey, the celebrated 
and cot safely back to Paris, occupied, critic, who saw this retreat from the 
with four divisions of the infantry of the plateau of Chatillon, thus describes it: 
line, the heights of Villejuif and those of "1 shall never forget the dolorous sen- 
Meudon. In the evening, he made a satiou which pierced my heart like a 
cavalry reconnoissance to see what, were sharp arrow. Here was a retreat in all 
the movements of the enemy. He was its hideousness. Soldiers of all branches 
naturally anxious to hinder the < lermans of the sen ic came disbanded, straggling, 
from continuing their march upon Ver- or in broken platoons, some without 
sailles, which seemed to be their objective their haversacks or weapons, some still 
point. At daybreak on the 19th there armed, but all stamped with the stigma 
was a genera] engagement, in which the of desertion. Ambulance wagons, mas- 
division of Geueral d'Exea took a part, terless horses, broken ammunition 
sustaining some of the Francs-Tirenrs, carriages, strayed to ami fro in a dis- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



•2(17 



ordered crowd. On either side of the 
road, on the sidewalks, there was an 
enormous mass of women and children, 
anxiously asking about the survivors, or 
heaping reproaches and menaces upon 
the drunken and discouraged soldiery, 
because there were wretches in uniform 
who were intoxicated and who staggered 
along against the walls. Cries, songs, 
imprecations, laughter, weeping, the 
groans of the wounded and the oaths of 
the wagoners, and, over and above all, 
the indistinct growling of the crowd, the 
far-off thunder, like that of the ocean in 
days of tempest, was most impressive. 
We came back to Paris in despair. On 
the boulevards we heard that twenty thou- 
sand of our soldiers had been completely 
crushed by one hundred thousand Prus- 
sians, near Clamart, that the whole 
army had thrown away its weapons, de- 
claring that it could fight no longer, and 
that the victorious troops were pursuing 
the retreating French. 

"The National Guards, furious, took 
the deserters by the collar, called them 
cowards, and carried them off. with many 
blows from their musket-butts, to the 
police stations, or to the Place Vend6me. 
The exasperated crowd spat in the faces 
of the miserable men who had dishonored 
their uniform and the name of French- 
men. There was a universal cry against 
the Zouaves and the Lancers, and their 
execution was clamored for." 

Meantime the Prussians had installed 
themselves in Versailles. They had sur- 
rounded the old town on all sides from 
a distance, as early as the 18th ; and the 
Uhlans had had confided to them the 
task of discovering the condition of the 
town, and entering it for a requisition. 
The enemy appears to have had a very- 
correct estimate of the number and 
quality of the forces there, and to have 
determined to have the head-quarters 



of one of its armies at Versailles, both 
for the romance and the practical ad- 
vantage of the thing. The Mayor of 
Versailles, rejoicing in his new-found 
Republican dignity, was assembling the 
wise men of the place for a parley con- 
cerning precautionary measures, on the 
morning of the 18th, when it was an- 
nounced that three Hussars, each of 
whom wore a skull and crossbones on 
his cap, were outside the town, anil de- 
sired to speak with His Honor the .Mayor. 
These bold horsemen came up through 
a long line of the National Guard, few of 
whom had any guns. But the Mayor re- 
fused to see them unless they could 
present the authority of some General : 
therefore they were withdrawn. Early the 
next morning an aide-de-camp, followed 
by a single horseman, came again to see 
the municipal authorities. He spent the 
greater part of the morning in conversa- 
tion with the Mayor, representing to him 
the uselessness of resistance. But his 
talk, emphatic though it was, perhaps 
did not produce so much effect as the 
thunder of the cannon, which was now 
heard between Versailles and Sceaux. 
This cannonading appears to have con- 
vinced the good Mayor that there was a 
large Prussian army at hand, and he was 
wavering between capitulation and a 
hopeless resistance, when there suddenly 
arrived from the same direction as the 
aide-de-camp a captain of engineers, also 
an aid of the General commanding the 
Fifth Prussian corps. The keys of the 
magazines, in which provisions and for- 
age were stored, were now given up, 
and by this time cannonading was heard 
on the farm of Villa Coublau, only a 
very short distance from Versailles. 
This noise came from General Vinoy's 
valiant attempt to defend the heights of 
Meudon. — an attempt which was unsuc- 
cessful. The railway trains, to aud 



268 



KCIIOPE l.\ sroilU AM> CALM. 



fitini Paris Lad been suspended the the enemy entered by the Place d'Armes, 

day befoi'e. About noon the Mayor the Rue St. Pierre, (he Avenue de Si. 

appeared before the gate at the end of Cloud, and the road from St. Germain, 

the Avenue de Paris, and read the text the inhabitants, overcome by curiosity, 

of the capitulation of the city and the gathered in great crowds to sec ihem. 

tones in it. A striking passage in this All heads we; - e uncovered as a little 

document was that strictly specifying that band of Zouaves, bareheaded ami 

all monuments in the historic town should wounded, made prisoners, just al the 

l.c respected. The French probably re- close of the fight, were hauled along by 

memberedthe furious tilt, of the Prussians the dusty Germans, who were munching 

up the Champs Klysccs. in 1814, and bread or unconcernedly smoking their 

how they broke the statues at Malinaison. pipes. There were a few cries of •• Vice 




a«wjy 



■ XJZ- - _- '' ' 

FRENCH GUARD MOBILE IN THE CAMP OF ST. M-AITR. 



( )ne of the Lieutenants of the National 
Guard, stationed at Versailles, was then 
invited to a parley with the Prussian Gen- 
eral. He was obliged to pass over the 
field of battle, and, while there, lie saw 
the Prussians lifting the wounded into 
ambulances marked, " Hospital of Ver- 
sailles, Palace," " This for the Trianon," 
etc. The effect of this upon him can bet- 
ter be imagined than described. lie next 
saw the immense Prussian column filing 
away from the positions it had suc- 
ceeded in holding in the wood, and 
rapidly enter Versailles. There were 
about twenty-five thousand men in this 
column, although the French put the 
number as high as forty thousand. As 



In Ripublique!" to which no objections 
were made ; ami in an hour or two, the 
spiked helmets of the Bavarians and 
their crests were seen throughout the 
woods and the gardens of Versailles. 
The city placed at the disposition of its 
captors twenty-six oxen, ten hogsheads 
of wine, and three hundred thousand 
francs' worth of grain and forage. Large 
numbers of the German troops passed 
directly out of the city to go forward to 
positions near St. Germain and St. 
Cloud ; and others inaugurated an ex- 
tempore least, and, having gorged them- 
selves, took the usual precautions for 
their own safety and that of their capt- 
ured goods. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



2(>9 



CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT. 

Enemies V-.u-c to Face. — Jules Favre :m<l Bismarck at Ferrieres. — Persona] Characteristics of the German 
Chancellor. — His Notions about France. — A Portrait of him by Favre. — His Opinion of Napoleon 
III. — "He Deceivetl Everybody." — The Crushing Tonus Demanded of France. — The Force 
of Caricatures. — M. Favre considers his Mission at an End. 



DURING those terrible days of tbe 
18th and 19th of September, days 

which brought such anxiety, and were 
full of so much hitter suspense for Paris, 
an interview destined to prolong the 
resistance of the great capital, and to 
give it the character of implacable fierce- 
ness which it gradually assumed, had 
taken place. Jules Favre had been 
selected for the difficult and delicate task 
of advancing to meet the victorious 
enemy, and soliciting from it such con- 
cessions as might render the lot of the 
conquered more tolerable. 

We heard M. Favre much criticised in 
those days, and especially by those who 
were anxious to found upon the ruins of 
the government of which he was a mem- 
ber a tremendous insurrection, and a 
social revolution. At the close of the 
war, too. when hearts were still very 
sore, .Tides Favre was condemned by 
many because he had not been able to 
meet the triumphant Bismarck with that 
unruffled demeanor assumed bv M. 
Pouyer-Quertier when that eminent finan- 
cier and economist came into contact 
with the Prussian Chancellor. Pouyer- 
Quertier, it was said, rather staggered 
the coolness of Bismarck : met him on his 
own ground, assumed the swagger that 
the great man affected when he was in 
France, and drank with him his atrocious 
mixtures of lemonade and white wine, 
keeping his head when other Frenchmen 
would have succumbed. 



Jules Favre approached the Prussians 
with the feeling that neither he nor his 
colleagues were in any respect blame- 
worthy for the declaration of the war, 
and that the terrible condition in which 
the French nation now found itself 
was due solely to tile incapacity of a 
tnjinte which he and his followers had 
always condemned. He therefore neither 
felt the shame nor the revolt of pride 
by which an Imperial envoy would have 
been agitated under the circumstances ; 
but he was a true patriot, and, as such, 
his heart was torn with grief which he 
could not conceal. The war, if the vic- 
torious Prussians now chose so to con- 
sider it, was at an end. The govern- 
ment which had declared hostilities was 
overthrown ; the enemy had success- 
fully vanquished the most aggressive 
of the French forces, and virtually held 
a great part of the country at its mercy. 
To precipitate the horrors of the siege 
upon a, population of two millions of 
persons, upon hundreds of thousands of 
helpless women and children, upon the 
vast numbers of people who lived from 
hand to mouth, and who could not be 
expected to have provision for the long 
months of inaction during investment, 
was a responsibility which neither M. 
Favre nor his friends felt that they could 
incur without an effort to disengage 
themselves. 

So on Sunday, the 18th, Jules Favre 
set out in pursuit of Bismarck. lie had 



270 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

much difficulty in discovering that illus- Count Von Bismarck stated his williug- 

trious diplomat. When once outside ness to receive M. Favre, and promised 

Paris, he was himself quite lost. Lord him safe conduct through the lines. But 

Lyons' courier had stated in Paris that it was not until late iu the afternoon that 

the German head-quarters wasat Lagny, the two diplomats met. The bead-quar- 

aud would be moved next day. Lord ters had been hastily moved from Mcaux 

Lyons himself told M. Favre thai Bis- to the magnificent chateau of the Roths- 

marck was at Grosbois. M. Favre, there- childs, at Ferrieres ; and Count Ilatz- 

fore, made a pretext of a visit to the fort feldt, Bismarck's private secretary, was 

near the Cliareiiton gate, and so had got sent to hunt up M. Favre, ami tell hill) 

out of town without exciting the mis- of the change. 

picions of the jealous National Guards, " So we turned back upon our steps," 
who were already beginning to assume a says M. Jules Favre in his •■ simple re- 
menacing attitude with regard to the cital " of the events of the war. "'When 
newlv constituted government. l'res- we reached the little village of Montry, 
eutly M. Favre, accompanied by two or we were forced to stop there: our team 
three other officials and a French staff could go no farther. We found two 
officer, came to the last village occupied peasants wandering about the ruins of 
by the French troops. All the houses a, farm, which, they told us, hail Inch 
round about had been abandoned by pillaged three Huns, so that they had 
their inhabitants. nothing left. Everything, even to the 
A priest came from a church near by sills of the windows, hail been destroyed, 
to warn M. Favre that he would be made We sat down on a heap of rubbish. 
prisoner if he went on; but the little After waiting half an hour we saw three 
troop set forth across the deserted couu- cavaliers, followed by an enormous ve- 
try, aud, after an hour's march, they came hide, approaching. One of them, very 
to some ( iermau soldiers posted on either tall, had a white cap with a large rosette 
side of a long, tree-bordered alley. Here in yellow silk. This was Count Von 
the Fiench officer had his eyes bandaged Bismarck. He dismounted at the gate 
by the enemy, and as soon as the soldiers of the farm, at which 1 stood to meet 
learned who M. Favre was and what he him. 

wanted, an escort took him and his " ' I regret,' I said to him, ' that I can- 
companions to Yilleneiive Si. Georges, not receive Your Excellency in a place 
where, M. Favre tells us, he was ushered more worthy of him. Perhaps, liow- 
illto a deserted house, and a guard was ever, ruins are not entirely without some 
placed at his door, with orders under no relation to the conversation that 1 have 
circumstances to let him go out. That had the honor to ask for. They show 
evening M. Favre was tin 1 unwilling with eloquence the extent of the mis- 
guesl of a German General, who did his fortunes to which I would like to put an 
best to be civil to the Republican envoy, end. We will, if Your Excellency will 
and, meantime, M. Favre indited a polite allow, try to install ourselves here to 
note to Count Von Bismarck, who was begin our conversation.' 
then at Mcaux. An officer set off post- - 1 ' No,' said Count Bismarck; ' there 
haste for Mcaux with the message, and is probably a house in a better condition 
the officer came back at six o'clock on somewhere in the neighborhood, and one 
the morning of the 19th. In his answer, that would lie litter for our conference.' 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



271 



•• ' Yes,' said one of the peasants, 
• about ten minutes from here is the 
Chateau cte la Haute Maison. I will 
show you the way there.' As they 
walked towards the chateau, Count Yon 
Bismarck said, 'This spot seems as if it 
were made for the exploits of your 
Francs-Tireurs. The neighborhood is 
infested with them, and we hunt them 
down pitilessly. They are not soldiers, 
and we treat them like assassins 

"'But,' said M. Favre, with anima- 
tion, ' they are Frenchmen, who are 
defending- their country, their homes, 
and their hearth-stones. They rebel 
against your invasion ; they certainly 
have a right to do so. and you override 
the laws of warin refusing their applica- 
tion to these Francs-Tireurs.' 

" ' We can only recognize.' said Bis- 
marck, ' soldiers who are under regular 
discipline: all the others are outlaws.' " 

M. Favre reminded him of the edicts 
published in Prussia in 1813, and the 
•• Holy Crusade" preached againsl the 
French. " That is true," said Bismarck : 
•■and our trees have kept the marks of 
the ropes with which your generals hung 
our citizens upon them." 

When the) reached the chateau they 
sat down in one of the rooms ; hut Bis- 
marck was ill at ease. He said. " We 
are very poorly placed here. Your 
Francs-Tireurs might get good aim at me 
through these windows, and." writes M. 
Favre, as I expressed my astonishment 
and my incredulity, "I must !>'"_: you." 
continued he, " to tell the people of this 
house that you are a member of the 
government, and that you older them to 
keep a strict watch, and that they must 
answer with their heads for any criminal 
attempt." 

After these little precautions, natural 
enough on the part of the Prussian 
Chancellor in an enemy's country, the 



two gentlemen proceeded to business. 
31. Favre briefly stated that bis situation 
and that of his colleagues were perfectly 
clear. They bad not overthrown the 
Emperor's government. He had fallen 
by his own folly; and though they came 
to power as bis successors, they only did 
it in obedience to supreme necessity. 
" It is to the nation," said M. Favre, 
■'that it belongs to decide upon the 
form of government that it wishes to 
live under, and on the conditions of 
peace. It is for that reason that we 
have called upon it for an expression of 
opinion ; and I have come to ask you if 
you are willing that the nation should be 
interrogated, or if you are making war 
upon it with the intention of destroying 
it, or to impose a government upon it. 
In this case I must observe to Your 
Excellency that we have decided to de- 
fend ourselves to the death. Paris and 
her forts can resist for three months. 
Your country naturally suffers by the 
presence of her armies on our territory; 
a war of extermination would be fatal 
to both countries; and I think that by a 
little good-will we can prevent further 
disaster by an honorable peace." 

Count Von Bismarck said that he 
asked for nothing but peace. Germany, 
for that matter, had not troubled peace. 
" You," be said, " declared war upon us 
without any motive, entirely for the pur- 
pose of taking a portion of our territory . 
In doing that, you hail been faithful to 
your past. Since Louis XIV. 's time, 
yon had never ceased to aggrandize 
yourselves at our expense. We know 
that you will never give up this policy. 
Whenever you get your strength back 
you will make war upon us again. Ger- 
many has not sought this occasion, but 
has seized upon it for her security, and 
that security can be guaranteed only by 
a cession of territory. Strasbourg is a 



272 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

perpetual threat against us. It is the the Press, and the warlitfe enthusiasm 

key of our house, and we want i;." in the Corps Legislatif when the decla- 

M. Favre said : ration of war was made 

•■ Then, it is Alsace and Lorraine, M. Favre, having ventured rather 

Count Von Bismarck?" timidly to inquire whether the Prussians 

"1 have said nothing about Lorraine; were aiming at a Bonapartist restoration, 
but, as to Alsatia, 1 will speak plainly: Bismarck spoke out impetuously :" What 
we regard it as absolutely indispensable concern of ours is your form of govern- 
to our defence." ment? If we thought Napoleon most 

M. Favre remarked that this sacrifice favorable to our interests we would bring 

would inspire in France sentiments of him hack; but we leave you the choice 

vengeance and hatred, which would of your internal administration. What 

fatally bring about another war: -VI- we want is our own safety, and we can 

satia wished to remain French; that she never have it without we have the key 

might lie conquered but could not be as- of the house. That condition is abso- 

shnilated ; and that the province would lute; audi regret that nothing in it can 

be a source of embarrassment and, per- be changed." 
haps, of weakness to Germany. From this point the conversation took 

Bismarck said he did not deny a sharper turn. M. Favre continued to 

this; but he repeated that, whatever dwell upon the necessity of bringing the 

might happen, and even if France were war to a close, and preventing the enor- 

geuerously treated by the conqueror, she mous losses which both nations must suf- 

would still dream of war against Ger- fer if hostilities were prolonged. l>is- 

manv. She would not accept the capit- niarek insisted that all this hail been 

illation of Sedan any more than that of foreseen by the Germans, and that they 

Waterloo and of Sadowa. " All our preferred to suffer it rather than to have 

country is in mourning ; our industry is their children take up the task. "For 

suffering greatly; we have made enor- that matter," he said, •■our position is 

mous sacrifices, and we do not mean to not so difficult as you seem to think it. 

begin again to-morrow," he concluded. is; we can content ourselves with tak- 

i\I. Favre endeavored to modify the ing a fort, — and no one of them can hold 

harshness of Bismarck's opinions, asking out for more than lour days, — and from 

him to bear in mind the great change in that fort we can dictate our terms to 

national manners since the beginning of Paris." 

the century, and that wars were, by M. Favre cried out against the horrors 

modern science and by the obligation of of the bombardment of a huge capital 

international interests, rendered move filled with innocent and defenceless 

and mole impossible; that Fiance had people as Well as with soldiers. " I do 

received a cruel lesson, by which she not say," said Bismarck, "that we shall 

would profit all the nunc because she had make an assault on Paris. It will prob- 

been forced into this adventure against ably suit us better to starve it out, while 

her will. we move about in your provinces, when' 

Count Von Bismarck objected t<> this, no army certainly can stop us. Stras- 

affirming that Fiance wanted the war bourg will fall on Friday, Toul, perhaps 

against Germany. He passed in review a little sooner; Marshal Bazaine has 

the old vindictive feeling, the attitude of eaten his mules; he has now begun on 



EUROPE IA STORM AND CALM. 



273 



his horses, and pretty soon he will have 
to capitulate. After investing Paris, 
we can cut off all its supplies with a 
cavalry eighty thousand strong; and we 
have made up our minds to stay here as 
long as is necessary." 

M. Favre continued to plead for the 
convocation of a French assembly with 
which the Germans could treat, and 
begged him, in the event of such a con- 
vocation to offer acceptable conditions 
and to make a solid peace. 

Bismarck answered that an armistice 
would be necessary to do all that, and 
he did not want one at any price. 

By this time it was quite dark, and 
the two gentlemen separated. Bis- 
marck, as he was taking leave of Jules 
Favre, said, " I am willing to recognize 
that you have always sustained the 
policy that you defend to-day. If I 
were sure th:it this policy were that of 
France, I would engage the King to 
retire without touching your territory 
or asking you for a penny ; and I 
am so familiar with his generous senti- 
ments that I could guarantee his ac- 
ceptance of such terms in advance. 
But you represent an imperceptible 
minority. You spring out of a popular 
movement, which may upset you to- 
morrow. We have no guarantee, there- 
fore. We should not have any from 
the government which might take your 
place. The evil lies in the mercurial 
and unreflecting character of your coun- 
try. The remedy is in the material 
guarantee that we have a right to take. 
You had no scruples about taking the 
banks of the Rhine from us, although 
the Rhine is not your natural frontier. 
We take back from you what was ours, 
and we think that we shall thus assure 

peace." 

M. Favre, in giving an account of his 
mission to his colleagues, could not re- 



frain from indulging in a few personal 
impressions of Count Von Bismarck. 
'•Although he was then," says the Re- 
publican Minister of Foreign Affairs, 
'• in his fifty-eighth year, Bismarck ap- 
peared to be in the full force of his 
talent. His lofty stature, his powerful 
head, his strongly marked features, gave 
1 1 i 111 at once an imposing and a harsh 
aspect, which was nevertheless tem- 
pered by natural simplicity, amounting 
almost to good-nature. His greeting 
was courteous and grave, absolutely 
free from any affectation or stiffness. 
So soon as conversation was begun he 
assumed a benevolent and interrogative 
air, that he kept up the whole time. 
He certainly looked upon me as a 
negotiator unworthy of him ; but he had 
the politeness not to manifest this senti- 
ment, and appeared interested by my 
sincerity. As for myself I was imme- 
diately struck by the clearness of his 
ideas, the rigidity of his good sense, 
and the originality of his mind. The 
absence of all pretence in him was not 
the least remarkable. I judged him to 
be a politician, far superior to all that 
had been thought of him, taking into 
account only what iras, preoccupied 
with positive and practical solutions, 
indifferent to all which did not lead up 
to a useful end. Since that time 
I have seen much of him, we have 
treated many questions of detail to- 
gether, and I have always found him 
the same. . . . He is fully con- 
vinced of his own personal value. He 
wishes to give himself entirely to the 
work in which he has had such prodig- 
ious success, and if. in order to carry it 
on, he must go further than he would 
like, or not so far as he could wish, he 
would resign himself to the situation. 
Nervous and impressionable, he is al- 
ways master of his subject. I have 



274 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

often heard reports of his excessive we might have been two sincere allies; 

sharpness ; luit lie never deceived me. and we could have handled Europe at 

He has often wounded me. I have our will. He tried to deceive everybody : 

revolted against his exactions and his sol trusted in him no longer ; but 1 did 

harshness; but, in great as in little no) wish to fight him. I proved it in 

things, 1 have always recognized him 18G7, at the time of the Luxembourg 

as straightforward and punctual." affair. All the King's party clamored for 

The interview was resumed at Fer- war. 1 alone repelled the notion. I 

rieres, in the evening. "• I was re- even offered my resignation; gravely 

ceived," said M. Favre, ••in a great injured my credit. I only mention these 

parlor on the ground floor, called the things to prove to you that the war was 

Salle <le Chasse. The Prussian field- nol my making. I would certainly never 

post was already established there, have undertaken it. if il had not been 

The registries, stamps, the letter-boxes declared against us." 

were all arranged with the same pn- Then he gave M. Favre a picturesque 

cision as in Berlin. Everything went account of the negotiations, in which M. 

on without noise, without confusion; Henedetti played so disastrous a part, 

each "lie had his place, Bismarck was called the Duke of Gramont "a mediocre 

still at table. lie came down to ask diplomat," said that Emile Ollivier was 

me to partake of his repast, which I an "orator and not a statesman ;" finally, 

declined. Shortly afterwards we be- he added that if the Germans had any 

gan to converse together." interest in maintaining the Napoleonic 

Among Bismarck's remarks that even- dynasty they would put it back at once ; 

ing many were very noteworthy, lie flic same for the Orleans family; the 

seemed to attach great importance to the same for M. De Chambord, who would 

violence of the French press, the offen- be much e to their taste. "As for 

sive caricatures and railleries of Ger- myself," said the Chancellor, " I am en- 

nianv, and to draw from them the tirclv out of the question. I am even a 

conclusion that the nation was persist- Republican, and I hold thai there is no 

entlv hostile, and could nol be corrected good government if it does not come 

in its .sentiments. After a time. M. directly from the people, only each peo- 

Favre, speaking with extreme frankness, pic must shape itself to its necessity, 

accused (he Chancellor of being the and to the national manners." 

instrument of the Imperial party, which The question of an armistice was again 

he had the design of imposing anew raised that evening ; but no further prog- 

upou the French nation. ress was made than this, that Bis- 

" You are entirely mistaken," said marck would consult the King, and that 

Bismarck. " I have no serious reason for he personally wanted a guarantee for he 

liking Napoleon III. 1 do not say that neutrality of Paris during an armistice 

it would not have been handy for me to in which an assembly should be invoked, 

have kept him in his place, and you have The next day, at eleven o'clock, M. 

done a bad turn to your country by upset- Favre anxiously waited the result of 

ting him. It would certainly have been Bismarck's interview with the King. 

possible for us to treat with him; but. "At half-past eleven," says M. 

personally, I have never been able to say Favre, " he sent me word that he was at 

much good of him. Jf he had wished it liberty. 1 found him seated at a desk, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



27 5 



in a large and magnificent parlor on the 
first floor of the chdteau. He came for- 
ward to meet me, and, leading me up to 
his desk, showed me the Journal pour 
Hire and another paper, which had not 
been placed there without a motive. 

" ' Here,' lie said, ' look at the proof 
of your pacific and moderate inten- 
tions!'" and he showed M. Favre 
numerous caricatures representing 
Prussia in the most hateful shapes. 
After he had dwelt on this lung 
enough to rouse M. Favre's temper, 
the latter said that he wished to 
come to tlie point at once. "You 
have spoken with the King ; I 
would like to know the result of 
your conversation." 

" The King." said Bismarck, 
"accepts an armistice under the 
conditions and with the object that 
we have agreed upon. As 1 have 
already told you we ask for the 
occupation of all the fortresses 
besieged in the Vosges, that of 
Strasbourg, and the garrison of 
that place as prisoners of war." 
Tliis led to an animated discussion, 
which, at two or three points, was 
in danger of being interrupted by 
violence of feeling. On each of 
these occasions Bismarck would 
say. "" Lei us try a new combina- 
tion ; let us look for a combination." 

M. Favre told him that the people of 
France would never consent to the sur- 
render of the troops in the garrison of 
Strasbourg, in view of the heroic defense 
which they were then making. '-It 
would be cowardly." he said 

Bismarck declared his willingness to 
talk over the matter again with the King, 
and went to do so. While the ( 'hancellor 
was gone, M. Favre sat at a table and 
wrote out the substance of the conditions 
of an armistice as he had understood 



Bismarck to lay them down. In a short 
time the Count returned, also with a 
written statement, and they compared 

notes. 

M. Favre had set down as a guarantee 
given by Paris of her continued neutral- 
ity during the armistice these words: 
•■ A fort in the neighborhood of Paris." 




BISMARCK (Military), isto. 

" That is not it at all," said Bismarck, 
quickly. •• 1 did not say a fort; I might 
ask you for a number of forts. I want 
particularly one that controls the town, 
— Mont Valerien, for instance." 

M. Favre made no answer. Bismarck 
continued: "The King accepts the com- 
bination of a. meeting of the Assembly 
at Tours, for instance ; but he insists 
that the garrison of Strasbourg shall be 
given upas prisoners of war." 

At this point, by his own confession. 



27b 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



M. Favre's courage broke down. He 
rose, and turned away his head, that the 
enemy might not see his tears. " But," he 
says, " it was the affair of a second: 
and. recovering my calm, I said, ' For- 
give me, Count, this moment of weak- 
ness. I am ashamed to have let you 
witness it ; lml mv sufferings are such 
that 1 am excusable for having yielded. 
I must now beg permission to retire. 1 
have made a mistake in coming here, lml 




I'.ISM vRCK (Civilian 1884. 

I am not sorry. I obeyed a sentiment 
of duty, and nothing- less than imperious 
necessity could have made me suiter the 
tortures imposed upon me. I shall 
faithfully report to the government all 
the details of our conversation. Person- 
ally I thank you for the kindness with 
which you have received it, and 1 shall 
remember it. If my government esteems 
that there is anything to do in the inter- 
est of peace, with the conditions you 
have laid down, I shall overcome my re- 



pulsion, and be here to-morrow; in the 
contrary case. 1 shall have the honor to 
write you. I am very unhappy, but full 

of hope.' " 

Bismarck himself appeared some- 
what agitated. lie extended his hand 
to Favre, addressed him a few polite 
words, and M. Favre turned his back 
upon the enemy. 

He reached Paris just in time to hear 
the excited comments of his colleagues 
141011 the shameful retreat of the 
French troops from Chatillon. 

But the decision that Bismarck's 
terms were too harsh, and could 
not he accepted, was unanimous; 
and next day the Prussian Chan- 
cellor received a note, stating this 
fact. 

On the evening of the 20th of 
September, the famous proclama- 
tion, in which the government of 
National Defense declared that it, 
would yield to the enemy " neither 
an inch of French territory nor 
a stone of French fortresses," was 
posted on the walls of Paris; and 
on the 21st of September Gam- 
betta, as Minister of the Interior, 
issued an address in which he 
reminded the people " That sev- 
enty-eight years before, <>n that 
day, their fathers had founded the 
Republic, and had taken a solemn oath, 
in the presence of the invader, to live 

fr r h' die iii combat. They kept 

their oath; they conquered, and the 
Republic of 1793 has remained in the 
memory of men a symbol of heroism and 
national grandeur. The government 
installed at the Hotel de Yille, amid the 
enthusiastic cries of Vive la R4publique, 
could not let this glorious anniversary 
pass without .saluting it as a great ex- 
ample." 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



277 



So wrote Gambetta, who was so soon 
afterwards to undertake his mission of 
organizing the national defence in that 
part of the country as yet free from 
the invader. 

For four months thereafter the city of 



Paris suffered siege. Within the walk 
and without a constant succession ot 
tragic and romantic events occurred. 
Let us now pass the most important of 
them in review. 



278 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE. 



The Army of Strasbourg. — General (Jhi'ich and the Fortress which lie had to defend. — The Forts. — The 
( 'athcdral.— Fire and Bombardment. — The Tyranny of the Mob.— Immense Destruction. — Loss of 
one of the most Valuable Libraries in the World. —German Siege Tactics. The spectacle a fin- the 
Surrender. 



WE have already seen that Jules 
Favre, in his report made to his 
colleagues of the government of National 
Defence, after his visit to Count Bismarck 
at Ferrieres, spoke <>f the Chancellor as 
very stern in all his remarks about Stras- 
bourg. '• it is the key of the house," said 
Bismarck, " and I must, have it." Jules 
Favre was not slow to perceive that Bis- 
marck meant by this that Strasbourg was 
to be comprised in the new Germany 
which he was carving out, with so much 
labor and at such an expense of blood 
and treasure. Time and time again, as the 
pitiless Germau laid down his conditions 
for the armistice which the French felt 
was necessary to their cause, the occu- 
pation of Strasbourg, of Ton], and of 
Phalsbourg was insisted upon in the 
sharpest terms. Once M. Favre lost, 
patience, and said, "It is much more 
simple to ask us for Paris;" but Bis- 
marck, speaking of Strasbourg, said, "the 
town is sure to fall into our hands. 
It is no longer anything but a matter of 
calculations." 

1 went down from Frankfort to Stras- 
bourg in September, when the German 
bombardment had been in progress for 
some twenty days, and was no little 
surprised to find that I was only one of 
thousands of pilgrims. The inhabitants 
of Baden, Wurteinburg, and the sections 

in the ueighborl 1 of the Rhine, looked 

on with grim delight at the steadily prose- 
cuted operations for the recovery of the 



city, which they regarded as belonging 
to Germany. Day alter day the little 
German papers published extravagant 
announcements of the coming assault 
upon Strasbourg, — an assault which 
never came. At Appenwcier, where 
the railway branches off to Kehl and 
Strasbourg, I found the transportation 
of troops to and from the front in rapid 
progress, and the delays for civilians 
were interminable. 

To travel through the lovely land in 
the peaceful September did not remind 
one much of war-time. The dark high- 
lauds of the Schwart/.wald loomed up 
peacefully to the left ; and on the right, 
in the broad, fruitful valley of the 
Rhine, few soldiers were to be seen. 
At Rastadt there was a solitary senti- 
nel ; but on the broad plain before 
the town an immense number of earth- 
works showed what tremendous prepa- 
ration had been made for the French, 
whose first entry into Germany was 
expected to be upon this vale, so often 
devastated in past times by French 
armies. 

The people of Baden were so delighted 
at being relieved from the threatened 
invasion (for during tin 1 days following 
the battles of Weissenburg, Saarbriicken, 
and Woerth they were in mortal terror) 
that they emptied cellar and kitchen in 
order to bring the passing troops refresh- 
ments and to cheer them on to the tight. 
What the French might have done in 



EUROPE IX STORM AM) CALM. 



279 



Baden if they had been better prepared, 
it was easy to see; but they contented 
themselves with cutting the bridge over 
the Rhine and waiting the onslaught of 
their enemies. 

A little rough riding in a peasant's 
wagon was necessary in order to get to 
Auerheiru, whence the best view of 
" Strasbourg in flames," as the Badeners 
called it, was to be had. The journey 
occupied about two hours, across a well- 
cultivated country ; and, although it was 
quite late, the villagers came out from 
all the sleepy little dorfs to stare at the 
strangers who had come to sec the bom- 
bardment. The scene was, indeed, worth 
a rough day's ride on the railway and 
the fatigue. At nightfall the whole sky 
above Strasbourg was illuminated by 
iires raging in one of the poorer 
quarters. It was a fearful sight to see, 
though the peasant driver said that a 
few evenings previous no less than half- 
a-dozen quarters had been blazing. The 
flames had been seen for over twenty 
miles. He also said that in Auerheim 
the screams and the lamentations of the 
inhabitants of Strasbourg were often 
heard. This sounded somewhat apocry- 
phal, lint lie insisted upon the truth of 
it, gesticulating with iiis long porce- 
lain pipe as he pointed to the great 
tower of the cathedral, which loomed up 
vast and dim against the lurid back- 
ground. Now and then a blaze of more 
than ordinary intensity was seen, denot- 
ing the fall of some building, and this 
would be followed by a momentary 
gloom. The regular booming of the 
cannon was faintly heard. 

About ten at night we drove forward 
to the entrance of the little village of 
Auerheim, where there was a picket sta- 
tioned. This picket halted the driver, 
but was easily pacified by cigars and 
small coins. The only hotel in the 



village was occupied by officers, and 
the police had kindly issued orders 
that no strangers should be allowed to 
remain there over night; so, had it not 
been for the kindness of a neighbor, we 
should not have been able to secure our 
sixth of the one sleeping-room, with 
quarters on some doubtful straw. All 
night the village streets resounded with 
the hum of the voices of the peasants 
and strangers, who were coming and 
going on their excursions to the best 
points for seeing the conflagration. The 
following morning broke bright and 
fresh as spring, and I engaged my host 
to lead me as near as possible to the 
German batteries at Kehl. The little 
river Kinsig flows hard by, and from its 
high banks a good view of a portion of 
Strasbourg and of Kehl is obtained. 
The highest spire of the cathedral, four 
miles distant, was superbly illuminated 
by the glow of the morning sun. I had 
been told in Frankfort that it bad been 
destroyed; and, indeed, the German 
officers confessed to me that it had been 
fired upon from Kehl, but only because 
the commandant of the city had persisted 
in making the platform at the foot of 
the single tower the place lor an observa- 
tory. So accurately had the shot been 
sent that it had passed over the platform 
without damaging the tower. " This 
was." said my informant, c; the only 
time the sacred edifice had been fired 
upon; and this was a case of necessity, 
since by this means the French com- 
mandant might have held communication 
with the mountains in the rear of the 
city, and overseen the entire movements 
made by the forces in Baden and Al- 
satia. The platform is two hundred 
and twenty-eight feet above the ground, 
commanding every part of the city and 
fortifications, and the mountain passes 
of the Black Forest and the Vosaes." 



280 



EUROPE I\ STORM AND CALM. 



The famous tower of the Strasbourg 
Cathedral reaches a height of four hun- 
dred and eighty-sis feet above the pave- 
ment, and is. next to the Pyramid of 
Cheops, the highest edifice in the world. 

The German guns were busy, although 
it was scarcely dawn, and were poundiug 
away at the citadel, which lay nearer to 
them than the church ; but the peasants 
were at work in their fields, or engaged 
with the hemp in the standing waters, 
and sentinels, with a business-like air, 
warned the visitors not to enter within 
the line of fire. Kehl was but a few 
hundred yards to our left, and the firing 
from the batteries there could be easily 

followed, the sound of the explosi if 

shells falling in the streets being dis- 
tinctly heard, although we could not 
observe their effect, because of the long 
rows of poplar trees. Across the Rhine 
the Prussian batteries in Schiltigheim, 
Ruprechtsau, and Bischheim kept up a 
monotonous refrain. The officer with 
whom I was in conversation said that 
nearly live hundred cannon and mortars 
were in position, although at that mo- 
ment the tiring was very slack. Fifty 
thousand Baden and Prussian troops 
were constantly under arms, waiting for 
a breach to be made in the wall--. They 
seemed to have little confidence in Gen- 
eral Uhrich's defiant statement that he 
would hold the town so long as a soldier 
and a biscuit were left. 

Strasbourg had at the time of the 
bombardment a population of over eighty 
thousand souls, half of whom were Prot- 
estants, and was justly considered the 
most important fortress in Alsatia. secur- 
ing the hitter's possession ; and, in the 
hands of the French, being the base of 
operations for the campaign in Badeu 
and the Palatinate. It was the farther- 
most outpost in France towards the East, 
the protectoress of Alsatia, and the 



watcher on the banks of the Rhine. 
Vauban secured the possession of Alsat ia 
to France by laying out a number of 
fortified place's, forts, and citadels: in 
tin- south, against Switzerland, Hun- 
niugen, which was rased in 1815; in the 
north, Weisseiiburg, and the so-called 
Weissen lhi" ; and tin' centre of the 
whole system of fortifications was Stras- 
bourg. The chief disadvantage of the 
city as a military fort, was the fact that 
it was on a plain. The German military 
authorities say that, had it been placed 
about fifty kilometres further back, 
somewhere in the neighborhood of Sa- 
verne, the declivities of the Vosges would 
have been a protection, and would have 
naturally given it a dominant position. 
The only means of getting a wide view 
from the town is by climbing the minster 
tower. The town's only advantage is 
that it has an entire command of the 
Rhine, though distant about seven and 
one-half miles, and situated on the 111, 
one of the tributaries of that river. The 
Rhine is here divided into three arms, 
and Strasbourg itself is built upon an 
island formed by them. A canal con- 
nects the city with the Rhine, and, by 
obstructing the former, water is sent 
into the ditches of the fortress, thus 
making the city more capable of defense. 
The fortification system was generally 
thought to be excellent, especially the 
fortified enceinte and citadel. Towards 
the Vosges there was a strong line of 
defence, with two projecting bastions 
and two forts at the ends ; in the north, 
Fort Pierre, and in the south, Fort 
Blanc. This part of the fortress was 
only entered by the railway and by the 
Saverne gate, the latter being well pro- 
tected. The two side lines of the city, 
which is almost triangular in shape, were 
;di. mt equally protected. The southern 
one, from Fort Blanc as far as the cita- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



281 



del, was provided with natural protec- 
tions. The ramparts were built on a 
level, cut by the 111 and the ditches, the 
entrance into the fortress being through 
the Hospital and the Austerlitz Gates. 
Behind the ramparts lay the forage 
magazines, the military prison, and the 
Austerlitz Barracks. The northern side, 
from Fort Pierre to the citadel, com- 
manded the two suburbs of Robertsau 
and Les Contades, and a small island. 

The citadel, built by Vauban in 1682- 
85, was separated by an esplanade from 
the city, and could contain defensive 
material for a number of months. But, 
as we have already seen, it, was too 
poorly equipped witli arms, artillery, etc. 
It was pentagonal in shape, provided 
with five bastions ; had barracks for 
ten thousand men and fifteen hundred 
horses ; and at the beginning of the siege 
is said to have had within its walls about 
four thousand National Guards, two thou- 
sand Gardes Mobiles, two thousand artil- 
lery, fifteen hundred men from regiments 
of the line, a great number of mules and 
Arab horses, which had been collected 
with the view of an expedition into Ger- 
many ; and, upon its walls, had some 
three or four hundred rather antiquated 
cannon. 

When the army of MacMahon had been 
defeated in the two battles of Weissen- 
burg and Woerth, the commandant of 
Strasbourg was requested by Lieutenant- 
General Von Werder to capitulate. In 
truth a less brave man than General 
Uhricli might have hesitated to under- 
take the defence of a city which had for 
its garrison only the rabble of retreat- 
ing liners, chasseurs-db-pied, artillery-men, 
and Turcos, who had been routed in the 
terrible night after Woerth, and had Bed 
to the nearest fortress. The summons 
to surrender was issued on the 8th day 
of August. The reports of MacMahon's 



defeat were sent to the commandant of 
Strasbourg, in the hope that he might, be 
influenced to yield the town. But he 
had received the most encouraging prom- 
ises of immediate aid from Paris, and to 
all the threats of bombardment, and 
assault responded by a cool and contin- 
uous negative. General Von Werder 
at once began the bombardment. The 
town was invested upon the 12th of 
August ; and for nearly forty days there- 
after a rain of shell and shot from the 
iron throats of. more than five hundred 
cannon fell upon the terror-stricken in- 
habitants. Commandant Ullrich sent 
word to the German commander that he 
felt called upon, as an act of reprisal for 
the bombardment of the city, of which 
he had not been notified, to direct his 
guns upon the little town of Kelil, which 
contains about two thousand inhabitants, 
most of the houses being small peasants' 
cottages. The Germans had one battery 
at a short distance to the left of this 
village, which was otherwise totally un- 
fortified. In the little church were a 
number of wounded. From the roof the 
flag of the sanitary corps was floating. 

The Germans were unanimous in say- 
ing that on this building the first shots 
of the French guns were directed, and 
that in a short time the church was set 
on fire. Had it not been for the heroism 
of the local farmers the wounded sol- 
diers would have been burned alive. All 
the inhabitants of the village fled, leav- 
ing their houses and property unpro- 
tected. Many houses were blown to 
pieces by shells, and the public buildings 
were completely wrecked. 

General Von Werder then sent a pro- 
test to the commander of Strasbourg, 
saying that his guns, in violation of the 
law of nations, had been directed against 
the unfortified and open town of Kehl 
without previous intimation. Such a 



282 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

method of making war, he continued, was Northern Germany, and the city was 
unheard of amongsl civilized nations, placed under Are on all sides, 
ami must induce him to make General Thenceforward, from the date of my 
Uhrich personally responsible for the con- visit until the surrender, the condition 
sequences of die act. Apart from this of the town, the garrison, and the inhabi- 
he should cause the damage done to be tants was frightful. The soldiers were 
assessed, and should seek compensation no longer subordinate, and the belter 
for it by means of contributions levied class of citizens, seeing a threatened 
in Alsatia. This note was issued on the danger, pleaded that their city might he 
I hth of August, and greatly embittered spared; hut the mob ruled everywhere 
the feeling on both sides. The damage outside the fortress. The commandant 
done in Kehl was, in fact, assessed, and began to take measures for the expulsion 
a report was sent in to the German gov- of the Germans, who formed a part of 
eminent. The Germans had not, up to the population; and, on the morning of 
this date, made preparations for a long or the 21st, one hundred Germans, who 
serious siege, since large forces were at hail been serving in the Algerian Foreign 
their command ; and the army of defense Legion, were ordered to leave the city. 
opposing them consisted, as they knew, The gates were opened, and ten were 
of but ten thousand men. The Stras- sent out at each gate, so say the German 
bourgers had been wise enough to call in accounts, with the threat that if they 
immense quantities of provisions from looked hack they would nt once he shot 
the neighborhood before the investment down. These unfortunate men were 
was complete; lint they found them- placed in an insecure position. They 
selves embarrassed by the presence of found themselves between two fires: 
thousands of villagers and mountaineers being dressed in their French uniforms 
who flocked in. It was estimated that they were marks lor the Germans, ami 
in three days before the I'.ilh of August if they attempted to regain the French 
twenty thousand villagers came in for lines they were sure of being shot, 
protection. General Uhrich found him- Most of them saved their lives by run- 
self with a hundred thousand people ning straight into the German lines, 
under his protection, and with an over- Two of them were natives of Pomcrania, 
whelming force of besiegers, assembled and, oddly enough, fell into the hands 

before his town. of a Pomeranian regiment. The children 

On the night of the 18th and 19th of iu the streets pointed out the Germans 

August heavy cannonading wa ■- kept up who did not speak the dialect ; and all 

on both sides, and immense damage was these were arrested as suspected of pos- 

done to the city of Strasbourg. The sible collusion with the enemy. Among 

guns threw into the fortress a perfect the persons thus arrested were many 

hail-storm of bombs and cannon-balls. Pomeranian brewers, — men who were 

On the evening of the 19th the fortifi- taken off their wagons and sent immedi- 

cation caught lire in many places ; but ately to prison. Men sent out by the 

the Strasbourg garrison worked well, Charitable Society of Lausanne, iuSwitz- 

the guns being valiantly manned and eiiand. were arrested as spies, and 

directed by artillery-men who had served imprisoned. A young German officer, 

their time in the French army. On the who was captured by some French 

20th a powerful siege train arrived from pickets, and escorted into the city, was 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



283 



literally torn to pieces by the excited 
mob. His head was cut off and stuck 
upon a pole, and carried in triumph, the 
mob following, shouting, singing, and 
cursing the besiegers. 

It was a fearful time for the peace- 
ably inclined citizens, who desired any- 
thing rather than the unchecked license 
of their own mob. The stories of the 
cruel treatment of German prisoners 
reached the besiegers' lines, and hun- 
dreds of shells were thrown into the popu- 
lous quarters, where they were expected 
to reach and punish the rioters. 

Onthe22d of August the Germans re- 
ceived reinforcements from Rastadt, and 
more heavy guns came also from Cologne 
and from Ultn Commander Dhrich was 
informed that a breach would be shortly 
made in the walls, and the city stormed ; 
that an assault would be postponed as long 
as possible, since the German victories 
elsewhere must show the uselessness of 
longer obstinacy, and King William had 
ordered that the commander of the lie- 
sieging forces should spare his men as 
much as possible, ami should do the city 
and its inhabitants the least amount of 
injury consistent with coercion. It was 
at this time that the Germans noticed 
the splendid point of observation which 
Commander Ullrich hail on the cathe- 
dral; so he was informed that, if he did 
not at once clear his instruments away 
from the church, the grand old edifice 
would be bombarded, despite its sacred 
character. On this day General Uhrich 
asked that the women and children 
might be allowed to pass out; lint, as 
the German commander desired to exer- 
cise moral pressure upon the garrison, 
he refused to allow this. lie permitted 
General Dhrich to send a letter to his 
wife. A great number of ( Jermans were 
at this period expelled from the city. 
The 24th of August was an anxious day 



for the little group of besieged, for, on 
the morning of the 24th, no less than 
live hundred cannon outside were manned, 
and fifty thousand troops awaited the 
signal for assault. The Germans, with 
singular, although perhaps with uncon- 
scious, insolence, asked General LJhrich 
to come out, or send one of his officers, 
to see the preparations which had been 
made for the bombardment. This lie 
refused to do, saying that it was never 
possible for him to inspect the German 
forces until those forces had capitulated. 
lie added that he was determined to de- 
fend himself to the last man and the last 
cannon-ball. 

During the whole of the 24th a terrific 
cannon duel was kept up, and at live 
o'clock on the following morning the 
tiling ceased, from pure exhaustion on 
both .sides. The right side of the cita- 
del of Strasbourg was almost entirely 
destroyed, and half-a-dozen fires were 
burning in various quarters. The next 
night the Germans sent ten or fifteen 
shells per minute into the city. All 
night the sky was lighted by the 
flames of burning Kehl, Robertsau, 
Seliiltgheim, and Konigenhof, which had 
been fired by the French, and at mid- 
night the moon was obscured by the 
smoke above the burning city of Stras- 
bourg. The peasants of the surrounding 
villages assembled in thousands to watch 
the flames and to listen to the cannon- 
ading. The fires were seen, nearly forty 
miles away, by the inhabitants of the 
Black Forest. The whole of the Stein- 
strasse, the Blau-Wolkenstrasse, and 
the new church of St. Peter were in 
flames. From time to time it looked at 
if the old church were burning, the 
tower seeming to be glowing red, and 
the flames appearing to run along it as 
if sporting with the sacred building. 
The soldiers of Kehl could read ordinary 



284 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

print at a distance of four miles from jured by shells. The H6tel de Yillc is 

burning Strasbourg. The wind blew shattered ; the Council Hall is devastated ; 

westward, carrying the Haines into the many private residences have become the 

most populous quarters. Firemen and prey of the flames. Shells last night fell 

citizens worked desperately t<> slay by dozens and by hundreds in a single 

the progress of the flames; while the street; and as soon as a fire was lighted 

mob, completely beyond control, ran up projectiles were poured like hail upon 

through the streets, robbing and plunder- the spot, no doubt for the purpose of 

ing the unprotected, and breaking into preventing the workers from getting the 

deserted houses. flames under. The whole city is heaped 

This night of the 2 1th of August made with wreck, and the roofs, chimneys, and 

a profound impression upon the besieged facades of the houses are damaged on 

inhabitants. The leading Ideal news- all sides." 

paper, in its issue of the 25th, contains Even this pathetic description fails to 
the following : "What ruin and mourning ! give an idea of the reality during the 
At eight o'clock last night the enemy dreadful night. The citizens tied into 
began a terrific fire, destroying fortunes, their cellars, many into the very sewers, 
treasures, and grand works of art. What in order to save themselves from the 
losses shall we mention first? The Pub- shells. Thousands, however, had no 
lie Library, the Temple Neuf, the Mu- such place of refuge. They ran about, 
scum of Painting? Most splendid houses, the streets half crazy. 
in the finest quarter, are now only heaps During the night the heroic little gar- 
of blackened ruins. The Public Library, rison made a sally, which was repelled 
so famous throughout Europe, contained by the Germans with great loss to the 
books and manuscript, the most unique in French. In the morning the command- 
the world, the result of centuries of labor, ant sent a parlementaire to ask for lint 
patience, and perseverance. Nothing and bandages for the wounded, since he 
now remains but a. few parchments, had none; and he added that from live 
The site is covered with ruins, and all to six hundred citizens had been wounded 
that we can find is the carbonized cover by exploding shells, and by the beams 
of one or two books in a corner. Of the from falling houses. .Many lay buried 
Church of the New Temple, which was beneath the ruins, where they must 
the largest Protestant place of worship remain, as there was no time to rescue 
in Strasbourg, with its splendid organ them. A shell tell into a girls' school, 
and renowned mural paintings, the four killing seven girls, ami severely wound- 
walls alone remain. The Art Museum ing many others. Still the commandant 
at Aiilirtte is entirely destroyed. The would not listen to the word capitulation, 
Cathedral has hitherto only escaped by but demanded to be allowed to leave the 
miracle. This morning, again, some fortress with all military honors. The 
fragments of sculpture and stone from citizens sent the burgomaster to the cita- 
the walls were found scattered about the del to plead with General Uhrich, but 
ground, showing thai a cannon-ball had the General sent him back again with the 
struck our magnificent Monument, — one intimation that he would shoot any citi- 
of the glories of the world. The Notre zen who attempted to resist his an- 
Dame Asylum, one of tin' noblest monu- thority. 
incuts of the middle ages, has been in- ( >u the 26th of August the inhab- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



285 



itants of the city sent the Bishop of 
Strasbourg to plead with the German 
commander. The bishop entered a 
little village where he was met by 
the chief of the Prussian staff. The 
good bishop first expressed his con- 
viction that the bombardment of the 
city was not justified by the military 
code, and begged that it should be 
brought to a speedy termination. The 
chief of the Prussian staff replied that 
if France had ever entertained the in- 
tention of uniting to the defense of tin' 
city the greatest possible care for its 
safety and that of its inhabitants, she 
would have built the fortifications so 
that the great points of defense would 
have been concentrated in the outer 
works. The old method of laying out 
the defence placed great difficulties in 
the way of storming, which could only 
be removed by simultaneously firing 
upon the city. He added that, in order 
to give tin' Imperial French prints some- 
thing to say. the little undefended town 
of Saarbriicken had been bombarded. 
The bishop, discovering that there was 
not much hope of an agreement with 
the obstinate German, timidly requested 
that all the civilian inhabitants of the 
city might be permitted to leave it. 
But this was sternly refused. Finally 
the bishop requested the cessation of 
hostilities for twenty-four hours. The 
chief of the Prussian staff answered 
that this could be granted only on tin' 
assurance that General I'hrieh would 
enter into negotiations ; whereupon the 
bishop and the chief parted in a friendly 
manner. But. according to the German 
accounts, a moment later a platoon fire 
was opened upon the chief of the Prus- 
sian staff, although he held in his hand 
the parliamentary flag, which he brought 
back into the lines literally pierced 
throucru and through with bullets. On 



his return to the lines the German 
batteries at once opened fire upon the 
fortification^ and the city as a retalia- 
tion of what they considered a very 
grave breach of military law. 

And in the midst of such horrors 
the month was slowly wearing away. 
General Flinch was, indeed, made of 
heroic stuff, for the bravest heart must 
have faltered now and then as it saw 
that all the promises of help from Paris 
were in vain, and that in front was a 
constantly increasing inimical force, — a 
whole nation, to take back what it con- 
sidered its own, and pitiless because 
of the memories of past defeats and 
humiliations, which had been inflicted 
upon it by the enemy now in its power. 

The very elements seemed to be 
against the unhappy citizens of Stras- 
bourg. Thunder-storms roared and 
poured daily over the doomed city ; and 
the wretched people who had been living 
in cellars were driven out of them by the 
rising of the Rhine. Hundreds tied to 
the cathedral, and took refuge within its 
massive walls. A Strasbourg lady, who 
fled to Basle with her two children after 
the night of the 24th, described the citi- 
zens as without courage and livid with 
fear. Every night, was a prolonged 
terror, and few of the inhabitants slept 
during the night hours. The German 
fire was generally strongest from one in 
the morning until live or six. 

On the 29th a tremendous sally was 
made by the Strasbourg garrison, but 
it did nothing save inflict a little dam- 
age on the. German troops, who were 
employed in making trenches. Still 
the bells in the city wen' rung, as if in 
celebration of a victory. But they were 
funeral bells, and General [Jlirich must 
have begun to foresee the end. On the 
night after this courageous sortie the 
first parallel was opened by the Germans, 



286 



EUROPE IN STORM AXh CALM 



and nineteen batteries were placed in 
position. Another sally made by the 
French, 1" take an advance battery, 
proved unsuccessful. 

On the 30th of August the bishop 
again appeared in the German lines, and 
said that lie was willing to undertake 
negotiations with General Uhrich. Tin' 
Germans gave the bishop the English 
and Belgian newspapers to read, which 
coutained accounts of the < Serman victo- 
ries around Metz ; ami then had him es- 
corted back to the town. That night all 
the German batteries increased their fire. 
But Strasbourg was silent, and remained 
so for time days thereafter, as iis am- 
munition was almost gone. 

At this time within the walls of Stras- 
bourg potatoes were sold at .1 francs 
per hundred pounds; peas, at 11 sous 
per pound, and the only meat to he had 
was horseflesh, sold at ■< francs per 
pound. 

The last, and crowning misfortune of 
General Uhrich was the cutting off of 
his direct telegraphic communication 
with Paris. This was accidentally ac- 
complished by a miner in one of the ( Ier- 
man trenches, "ho cul the subterranean 

\\ ire with his pickaxe. 

On the ".1st of August the energetic 
deputy. Keller, was haranguing the Cn,-jis 
Ldgislatif'm Paris, and declaring that a 
commission should he sent into the de- 
partment of the Upper Rhine to arouse 
the populations to a man. But no help 
came to the valiant Uhrichand his starv- 
ing men. '• I will," he said, shutting his 
teeth hard, and glaring at the messenger 
whom the bishop had senl to him — "J 
will hold the place to the last stone. If 
1 must, withdraw into the forts I will 
blow up the city if it hinders my de- 
fense." 

The leading Strasbourg paper, on the 
2d of September, published a tremendous 



despatch, announcing a great French 
victory, in which both Steinmetz and 
Prime Friederich had been taken prison- 
ers, and the Crown Prince was severely 

wounded. A second report announced 
a victory at Toul, in which forty-niue 
thousand Germans had been killed, 
thirty-five thousand wounded, and seven 
hundred cannon taken. Marshal Mac- 
Mahon was said to be at Chalons, with 
four hundred thousand men, and Alsatia 
was to be saved in two days. The 
French soldiers, said the despatch, are 
making ramparts of the Prussian dead. 

It was on the dayfollowing this imag- 
inary comfort, in which the poor people 
of Strasbourg indulged themselves, that 
the fall of Sedan was announced in 
Germany ; but the people of Strasbourg 
knew nothing of this eveut until several 
days afterwards. The German besiegers 
had celebrated the victory by firing off 
twenty-one guns. The editor of the 
Strasbourg paper wrote : " Yesterday 
the enemy's batteries tired many shells 
into the city at regular intervals. Our 
batteries made a vigorous reply. After 
the twenty-first shell was fired the Prus- 
sian guns were silenced." 

On the 11 th of September a delega- 
tion of Swiss gentlemen arrived in Stras- 
bourg with permission from the Germans 
lo take iii their train some fourteen 
hundred persons, chiefly aged women 
and young children. These visitors 
brought to the besieged the startling 

news of Gravelotte ; of Sedan; of Ba- 
zaine blocked up in Metz ; of MacMahon 
defeated, ami Bonaparte a prisoner in 
Germany; and of the Republic pro- 
claimed in Paris. The Imperial Prefect 
was at once impeached ami deprived of 
his office, and a municipal commission 

called to the mairie of the citj the wise 

ami good M. Kuss. — a Republican, who 
was much beloved, and who was to he 



EUROPE J.Y STORM AND CALM. 



287 



the last mayor of French Strasbourg, 
and to have a pathetic fate, as we shall 
see later on. 

On the 20th of September arrived In 
Strasbourg the new Prefect of the Lower 
Rhine, appointed by the government of 
National Defense in Paris. It is doubt- 
ful if any prefect ever had such diffi- 
culties' in arriving at his post, as fell 
to the lot of this brave envoy from 
the capital, or such ingenuity in over- 
coming them. Disguised as a peasant 
he succeeded in reaching Schiltgheim. 
There he ran the Prussian lines, after 
having worked for several days on the 
entrenchments of the Germans in order 
to lull any suspicions that they might 
have, and, making his way towards the 
city walls, swam across the moat, and 
walking up to the sentinel, who shot 
twice at him, called upon him to desist. 
The stupefied sentinel halted him until 
the officer of the guard came to take 
him into the town to General Uhrich. 
When he was alone with the General, 
the new prefect ripped up one of his 
coat-sleeves, and from the rent in his 
garment extracted the official decree 
which named him Prefect of Strasbourg. 

The Germans had arranged to storm 
the city on the 30th of September, the 
anniversary of Strasbourg's loss to 
Germany in 1681 . A pontoon bridge for 
crossing the ditch had been prepared, 
and, as the storming party would have 
been splendidly protected by the German 
guns, an actual attack would probably 
not have been long resisted. General 
Uhrich, as commander of the fortress, 
well knew that the French military code 
forbade him, under penalty, to give up 
the trust confided to him without a 
proper and a long resistance. To sur- 
render without a breach in the walls of 
Strasbourg would have been treason to 
France. But on the evening of the 



27th of September the white flag was 
hoisted. General Uhrich's proclamation, 
announcing the surrender of the town, 
stated his belief that resistance was no 
longer possible. The poor, half-starved 
inhabitants crept out from their damp 
cellars, from the churches, and from the 
board houses along the canals where 
they had taken refuge, and Hocked 
around the Cathedral, from the topmost 
spire of which the flag was flying. 

On the 28th the Mayor issued his 
proclamation, announcing that the gar- 
rison would lie allowed to go out. with 
the honors of war, and that the German 
occupation would at once begin. On 
the day of the capitulation the public 
squares of Strasbourg were literally 
strewn with arms, which had been broken 
and thrown away by the angry and 
humiliated French soldiers. Most of 
those men who behaved with so little 
good-sense were members of African 
regiments, though the Mobile Guard 
and the National Guard, composed of 
the citizens of Strasbourg, maintained 
their dignity. General Von Werder and 
his staff did not enter the city until the 
30th of September, when Strasbourg was 
opened, as the Germans maintain, by 
treason, to the forty thousand invading 
French in 1681. 

The spectacle that met the eyes of the 
Germans at the close of the bombardment 
exceeded in extent all previous con- 
ception. The two northern suburbs of 
Strasbourg, for a space measuring seven 
thousand feet long by eighteen hundred 
feet wide, according to the estimate of 
the celebrated architect. Dembler, of 
Mecklenburg, were one mass of ruins. 
Only here and there a solitary wall 
stood up like a monument amid the deso- 
lation. Herr Dembler, in bis inspection 
of the town, discovered that there were 
scarcely one hundred houses uninjured ; 



2SS 



EUROPE l.\ STORM AND CALM. 



four hundred and forty-eight were 
totally destroyed ; and more than three 
thousand were riddled with shot and shell. 
About fifteen thousand in the suburbs, 
before the ramparts, were almost entirely 
destroyed. Of the civil population three 
hundred prisons hud been killed, and 
seventeen hundred wounded, by the 
bombardment. Nearly twenty thousand 
persons were left without homes or 
money ; and the most moderate estimates 
made by the Germans themselves of the 
looses, on buildings, furniture, goods, 
schools, churches, the museum, the 
theatre, the prefecture, the Hotel de 
Ville, the court-house, the bridges, etc., 
were 200,000,000 francs. The value of 
the art collections, and especially of the 
library, is incalculable. Truly the game 

of war does not pay. 

That which contributed most to keep 



alive the French hatred of the German 
troops invading Alsatia was the story 
published throughout France shortly 
after the triumphal entry of the Germans 
into Strasbourg. It was to this effeel : 
that the commander-in-chief of the Prus- 
sian army, in billeting his officers and em- 
ploye's upon the starved and ruined in- 
habitants of the city, issued the decree 
that each one of the persons billeted 
should have in the morning a breakfast, 
composed of coffee or tea. and bread and 
butter; at noon a second breakfast, com- 
posed of soup and a solid dish of meat 
and vegetables ; and in the evening a 
dinner, composed of soup, two dishes of 
meat, vegetables, dessert, ami coffee; 
and, dining the day, two bottles of good 
table wine and live cigars. 

This was the crowning stroke. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



289 



CIIA1TKR THIRTY. 



Through the Conquered Country. — Strasbourg after its Trial. — Railway Journeys under Prussian Military 
Rule. — Nancy. — Tlie Bavarians. — Epernay. — The Story of Pere Jean. — Getting up tu Versailles. 
— The Voiees of the Forts. 



ABOUT four o'clock in the morning, 
some days after my first view of 
Strasbourg under fire, I arrived at Kehl, 
where plenty of ruin had been wrought 
by the French shells. The old railway 
station was gone, and I stood shivering 
in the cold night air until we were per- 
mitted to cross the Rhine on the pontoon- 
bridge, which was guarded by dozens of 
soldiers, as if the Germans anticipated 
the return of the French forthwith. A 
carriage soon brought me to the interior 
of Strasbourg. The drive from the 
Rhine bank to the town was through a 
scene of the rudest desolation. Great 
trees a century old lay to right and left, 
stripped of their branches, where once 
they had stood the lofty guardians of a 
graceful avenue. Houses to right and 
in front were all burned and seared by 
hot shot and shell, and the customs build- 
ings were entirely ruined. A gentleman 
who occupied the seat next me had been 
beleaguered in the city three weeks, and 
said that at least twenty-five hundred 
people were either killed or wounded 
during his stay there. I took coffee 
hastily in the little hotel next the ruined 
museum, and proceeded at once to the 
railway station to encounter the " Etapen 
Commando." The streets were crowded 
with the stout soldiers of Baden, whose 
uniform was none of the nicest, and who 
compared very unfavorably with either 
the Prussians or the French. 

My pass from the general staff in Ber- 
lin was fortunately worded so as to ig- 



nore the fact that I was a " newspaper 
writer," else I should have been looked 
upon with profound disdain by the offi- 
cial whom I now encountered. He soon 
gave me a legitimations- Karte, good for 
the journey to Nancy ; and by aid of this 
I secured a place in the military train. 
The carriages in use were nearly all 
Prussian or Southern German, the East- 
ern French railway having succeeded in 
removing its rolling stock before the 
invasion had reached its line. All 
distinction of classes was abolished for 
the time being, by taeit consent, and 
Alsatian peasants occupied first-class 
compartments in the railway carriages 
for the first time, probably, in their 
lives. 

We moved very slowly, with frequent 
stops between stations, and it was with 
much difficulty that the Prussian officials 
succeeded in making the French under- 
stand the various new regulations. A 
railway staff had been brought from 
Germany, and either could not or would 
not communicate with the French in the 
French language; and there were mis- 
understandings and vexations innumer- 
able. The train had a guard of forty or 
fifty soldiers in a front carriage, and the 
oilier travellers were officers, telegraph 
and postal couriers, and special messen- 
gers going to the front. All through the 
great passage of the Vosges, and in the 
fertile valleys at the foot of the moun- 
tains, there was au atmosphere of neg- 
lect. There were no workmen in the 



2'.I0 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

fields, save now and then an adventu- l>een whipped inrecenl times. An Aus- 

rous ploughman with a solitary horse, trian General gave him a thrashing in 

The great forests and leafy glades were 1866, and he had never risen to the level 

mystic with checkerwork of light and of combative success since that occasion, 

shade ; and we might have imagined that But he seemed hi have succeeded well in 

we were on a holiday excursion, if atevery his difficult mission at Nancy. I heard 

station we had not seen the watchful no word of complaint uttered against 

guards, and stacked behind them the him. and the towns-people seemed to 

needle-guns, which guaranteed the forei- have a certain admiration for his qualities, 

ble possession of Alsatia ami Lorraine. I called on him, and received my iu- 

The officials, red-capped and jauntily structions for the next day's journey, then 

dressed, joked and laughed with the entered the restaurant of a hotel and 

peasant girls who sold refreshments for suggested the serving of dinner, as I had 

the officers ; and whenever a soldier took had nothing to eat for fifteen hours. 

anything without paying the proper price, "You must wait," said the gargon, 

an officer was promptly called to redress "until seven o'clock, until the regular 

the wrong and correct the offender., dinner. We have very little and must 

On all the roads along the hills we economize what we have. You cannot 

could see long processions of army teams, get much here." Whereupon 1 succeeded 

wacons drawn by powerful horses, slowly in persuading him that I was a neutral, 

winding their various ways like huge ser- ami must lie fed then and there. "Do 

pents. Before them rode the Uhlans, you pay, or have you a, billet detorjement?" 

gay and singing, their white and black said he. "• My friend, I pay, of course." 

lance pennons waving gracefully. Here " Ah, well," said he, employing a slang 

ami there across the mellow fields Parisian phrase, ' ; that is another pair of 

spurred a Bavarian or a SaxOU officer, sleeves, and 1 will see." I had rarely 

carrying orders from one dorf to another, been better served; and at dessert the 

Sometimes, in descending from the ear- gar<;on brought me a uoble cluster of 

riage, 1 met a peasant, who cursed me grapes, of which I am sure the unhappy 

fluently while I purchased his bread and officers who boarded at the table d'hdte 

wine; and once an old woman was 'so saw none. 

violent in her language that I beat a If was amusing to find the Prussian 

hasty retreat. But in general the popu- soldiers, who received only seven and a 

latiou was resuming its normal mood, half thalers per month, besieged by peas- 

Occasionally one cursed you roundly ants and old women, miserably clad, and 

ami sold von his goods at the same time, trembling with the cold, who insisted 

or chatted pleasantly and asked eagerly upon having alms. 1 looked in at the 

for news. After seven hours of tedious cooperative store at Naucy, ami found 

riding we arrived at Nancy. I wished that there was serious distress among 

to push on to Versailles, 1ml was told the poor. The German soldiers gave, 

that the trains did not run nights in war- but, not without grumbling. An old 

time; so I went through the surging woman cursed me from a third-story 

masses of soldierj into the town. window during of my walks in the 

General Von Bonim, the commander town, because I was hard-hearted towai-ds 

of Nancy ami the neighboring districts, a little girl who insisted upon charity. 

was one of the few Prussians who have In the Place Stanislaus, one of the 



/■.TROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



291 



finest squares in France, I saw sev- 
eral companies of Bavarians drawn up, 
waiting for billets of lodging. A few 
also were in a neighboring shop endeav- 
oring to follow the rules relative to the 
exchange between Prussian and French 
money. Notices, amply explanatory, 
were posted in ever}' place of business, 
and thr thaler and pfennig, — words al- 
most unpronounceable to French lips, — 
had entirely replaced the franc and cen- 
time. The walls were covered with im- 
mense staring notices, enumerating the 
things that must or must not be dime. 
The Moniteur Officiel, for this depart- 
ment, issued by the Prussians, and printed 
in French, was posted on the bulletin 
boards. There u:is no news in it; but 
the reader was invited to the contem- 
plation of a series of ordinances relative 
to the cattle plague. From the 1'lacc 
Stanislaus, 1 went down to the fine old 
Palace of Justice, where Marshal Can- 
rolieit once made his home; and the 
peasant who accompanied me said that 
the story of the capture of Nancy by 
five Uhlans was true. 

" I was in the. square myself," he said, 
"when they rode in, and there was no 
serious talk of resistance. One or two 

peasants whispered, 'Let us ki k 

them on the head,' but the more prudent 
at once restrained them. We were not 
afraid of them, but of what they repre- 
sented." 

The principal cafe's in Nancy were 
filled with German officers, quietly sip- 
ping their beer, and reading their letters 
from home. The politeness of these 
men towards the inhabitants who entered 
was curious to observe. None of the 
soldiers were overbearing, and made 
way in some of the public places some- 
what as if they considered themselves 
intruders. Regiments of Bavarians 
were constantly pouring into the town. 



and hastening to seek their quarters for 
the night. Here, as in most of the oc- 
cupied towns, a little notice, was con- 
spicuously posted, and the citizens had 

g 1 reason to be thankful for it. It 

read thus : 

Any arbitrary requisition, whether by word 
or by sign, calculated to intimidate any inhabi- 
tant, will be punished in a severe manner. 
Signed, 

The Etai'kn Commando. 

This effectually prevented much in- 
justice on the part of the soldiers; buT 
many comical misunderstandings arose 
between conquerors ami conquered. In 
the evening, I saw a French peasant 
woman in a. frightful passion against 
a young Bavarian officer, who, she said, 
had been twice quartered in their house, 
and who now returned to insult them by 
insisting on staying a third time. But 
a little inquiry disclosed the fact that 
the officer had simply returned to ex- 
press his gratitude for the handsome 
manner in which he had been treated, 
and to leave a small gratuity. At the 
Hotel de Paris, where the commander 
had established head-quarters, most of 
the officers appeared to have won the 
favorable opinion of the landlady, who. 
to sum all up, said, "I thoroughly 
believe they have only one fault." — 
"What is that?" — "They are Prus- 
sians." 

Naturally enough all the theatres and 
amusements were at an end. There 
were no restrictions to traffic between 
one town to another; and the Etapen 
Commando gave " safe conducts " to all 
peasants who asked for them. The 
fanners and crap-growers of the vicinity 
had but one aim, — to keep within the 
pale of Prussian law. 

At Nancy we found the journals 
which had come down from Rheims, and ' 



292 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Soissons, and the other towns in thai 
section. These were little scrubby half- 
sheets, printed on poor paper, and en- 
tirely devoid <>f news. In the Indepen- 
dance Reviois, at the head of the first 
column on the first page, in large type, 
was the following: "The German au- 
thorities communicate to us, with an 
order to insert it, the following de- 
spatch." Then came (me of King Wil- 
liam's brief but sententious accounts of 
a Prussian victory. Telegraphic de- 
spatches were all distinguished as fol- 
lows: '■From German sources." "De- 
spatches of Foreign Origin." It must 
have been trying to the inhabitants of 
Nancy to submit to the arrival among 
them of the crowd of Hamburg, Frank- 
fort, and Strasbourg Jews, by no means 
of the choicest kind, who had followed 
the army, and hung out their signs in 
every street. The tobacco trade had 
been mainly accorded to the Hamburg- 
ers, who were driving a brisk trade with 
the soldiery. Many of the business 
places had been rented by the Hebrews, 
with the stipulation that the leases should 
last until the withdrawal of the German 
troops. 

In the morning, when I went to the 
train for Epernay, I found the station 
crowded with troops all bound up the 
line. There were the stout, rotund 
Prussian, shining in blue and gold, 
jaunty, saucy, and defiant; the light- 
must ached, thin-lipped, high -shouldered 
boy from the hussars, full of wine, 
and patting every peasant girl on the 
shoulder; the ponderous I.andwehr- 
man, sedate and sullen, looking sadly at 
the children playing about tin- station ; 
the lumpy anil clownish. Bavarian ; the 
ethereal Saxon, resplendent in sky-blue; 
and the northern Polish, Breslau, and 
Posen Lancers, gliding about among 
their comrades, who looked like dwarf's 



beside them. Veteran colonels, in fur 
robes, which rose to their shoulders, and 
fell to their heels, rushed to and fro, 
snarling their orders A wounded 
French officer crawled along on his 
crutches, and asked to be directed by 
the quickest route to Bordeaux. The 
brawny men of the army gang from 
Switzerland, Saxony, and the Rhine 
shouldered through the mass, singing 
their dialect songs ; and a village cure, 
with a red cross on his arm, told me 
terrible stories of the recent battles 
around Metz. The peasants produced 
their safe conducts, and received yellow 
tickets printed in (banian in exchange. 
Post officials, with huge red bands round 
their caps, bugged their courier bags, 
and fought for the best places in the 
train ; and at last we got off exactly 
three hours behind time. 

In my compartment, I found a Prus- 
sian doctor, attached to the fifteenth 
division of the Eighth army corps, which 
was then stationed at liheims. He had 
seen much of the lighting around Metz, 
and had been ill with that terrific scourge 
of the Prussian army before the fortress 
of the Moselle, the typhoid fever. He 
had been sent home to die but a sniff of 
the fresh air of Berlin had brought him 
back to life, he said, and so he was on 
the road again. He gave a picturesque 
description of the burning, by French 
shells, of a house in which there were 
many French wounded, and the impress 
of truth was in all that he said. He 
testified readily to the truth of the gen- 
eral supposition that the Prussian losses 
in killed, during the war, had thus far 
exceeded those of the French. But he 
spoke with particular earnestness of the 
superiority of the German soldiers over 
others in withstanding fatigue. '•Ty- 
phus, bad water, and. sometimes, had 
liquor," were the main enemies the 



EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



293 



German trooper had to encounter. The 
wounds made by the chassepdts, he 
thought, were very deadly, and, if not 
attended to shortly after they were in- 
flicted, the consequences were nearly 
always grave. " Mere pain," he said, 
" does not wear out the German, as it 
does other soldiers." He was especially 
eulogistic of the French troops which 
his corps met before Metz, and recounted 
an instance which spoke volumes. A 
captain with a handful of men was 
cornered and called on to surrender. 
" We all stood and looked on," said the 
doctor. " But the captain cried, ' For- 
ward to die ! ' and they went in 
again, but they never came out." 

In this same train was the aide-major 
of the French department of the military 
hospital at Versailles. He had cared for 
the wounded there until he was selected 
to undertake the difficult mission of 
escorting the pardled convalescent 
French through the lines to a (joint 
whence they could reach their homes, 
and to take the prisoners as far as 
Nancy en route for Germany. Exposure 
and fatigue had quite broken him down ; 
and he was so worn out that he fell twice 
during an hour's walk which we took in 
one of the long stoppages of the train at 
a small station. The Etapen Commando, 
when we stopped later in the journey 
over night, said, "Poor fellow! give 
him a good lodging. He is worse off 
than those he cans for." Bui the 
aide-major clung on to overloaded 
carriages, to baggage trains, to filthy 
carts crowded with troops, until he was 
back at his post. He was seven days 
in making his way from Versailles to 
Nanteuil with one hundred and thirty 
convalescents, not long before I had met 
him. They were compelled to walk the 
whole distance, the Mayors of the little 
towns through which they passed not 



daring to give them conveyances. Once, 
in order to procure a vehicle for one or 
two discouraged members of his troop, 
he was compelled to threaten the Mayor 
with the Prussians. "I got my car- 
riage," he said with a smile, " in ten 
minutes." 

The traveller from .Strasbourg to 
Paris, on his arrival at Epernay, in I lie 
pleasant country of Champagne, used to 
be set upon by a dozen peasants, who 
insisted upon selling him forthwith the 
real nectar of the gods at the cost of 
25 cents per pint. The credulous 
traveller who imbibed this compound 
was for days afterwards troubled with 
singular sensations in head and stomach, 
and finally discovered that he, as well as 
the basely adulterated drink, had been 
"sold." On my arrival this time at 
Epernay, I found the same peasantry 
driving a brisk trade among the sturdy 
German soldiers, who, under the influ- 
ence of the cheering fluid, insisted upon 
kissing every girl who came within their 
reach. At Epernay is the branch line 
leading to Rheims and Soissons ; and 
here were hundreds of cars rolling away 
with supplies for the Eighth army corps. 
All along the route from Strasbourg up, 
we had met a great variety of trains, 
showing the richness of the Prussian 
military resources. Sometimes trundled 
by us a hundred empty carriages, all 
marked with a red cross. At one station, 
I counted sixty baggage-cars filled with 
disinfectants alone for the camps around 
Paris. At Nancy and Epernay were 
great heaps of hospital bedding and 
sacks of lint, for which there was as yet 
no room in the overcrowded hospitals 
beyond. Thousands of barrels of pe- 
troleum were safely stored in many 
places ; and as for grain there were 
countless sacks of it, and mountains of 
forage ; and the blue-bloused peasants 



294 



El ROPE IN srni; 1/ [\l> CALM 



were working night and day to carry it 
to the army. 

The Prussians had lost great numbers 
of horses in the campaign, the climate 
strangely affecting them; and new in- 
stalments were constantly brought up 
from northern Germany; while buyers 
for the army were everywhere in Ham- 
burg, Scotland, Ireland, and England. 
J slept at Epernay, and rose before the 
dawn, expecting to leave by an early 
train for Nanteuil, at which point, 
because the French had blown up the 
great tunnel under the mountain, railway 
communication was at an end. From 
Nanteuil to Versailles there were si\ 
posts, and 1 was told that if I made two 
daily 1 should be lucky. In order to 
reach Versailles it was necessary to take 
a long and wide sweep around Paris, 

through a host of the pretty suburban 
villages. Visions of mud and endless 
army convoys rose before my eyes. I 
waited four hours at Epernay, and was 
finally compelled to clamber on to an 
open truck of a construction train, and 
on this shaky vehicle 1 reached, late in 
the afternoon, a high plateau, from 
whence there was a charming view of the 
placid Marne,' winding its way through 
the greenest of fields and amid vine- 
clad hills. In the distance nestled two 
brown picturesque villages, Nanteuil and 
( 'roiittcs. 

Bivouacs were numerous all along the 
hillsides, and fires gleamed among the 
forests. The little railway station was 
almost literally covered with mountains 
of mail matter, delayed in transit to Ver- 
sailles. I walked around one of the 
heaps, twenty feet long and six feet high ; 
another rose to a height of twelve feet. 
The " field-post" wagons were loading, 
huli-deep in the mud; and the sturdy 
Pomeranians were singing as they swung 
ilie sacks on to the trucks. Here neither 



carriage nor horse was to be had for 
money or persuasion. The Etapen Com- 
mando advised me to sleep over my dis- 
appointment for that night, and in the 
morning he would appeal on my behalf. 
In company with two fellow-travellers 
I walked a mile to the town under the 
hill. Nanteuil was crowded, and a peas- 
ant woman informed me that I was none 
loo good to sleep out of doors. I went 
to see the Mayor, a little Quilpy man 
with a greasy coat, protruding upper lip. 

ami a wondrous pair of spectacles. 

He was willing, but incapable. Slept 
on the floor himself; used to it. No 
floor for us to sleep on? No; he rather 
thoughtnot. Inquire at the next village, 

another mile away, on the bank of the 
Marne. 

Crouttes looked inviting; but no one 
offered a lodging. In the middle of a 
lone street stood a little group, — a bent 
anil feeble old man, a hale, brown, and 
scholarly looking fellow at his side, and 
some country bumpkins in wooden shoes. 
We asked them if French money would 
buy us Induing. "No," said the old 
man, " not here. I have thirty horses in 
my stable and eight postilions in my 
house, and 1 can do no more. Have you 
billets of lodging?"— li No." — " Well," 
said the scholar, " in that case. 1 Vac .lean 
will see what he can do for you." He 
insisted on the old fanner's finding us 
a place; and it was not until after he had 
departed that we discovered we had made 
the acquaintance of one of tin 1 most fa- 
mous of Parisian painters. 

The old man was sixty-two years of 
age, and had worked in the fields among 
the vines ever since he was ten. It is 
a rude life, because you must be up in 

the l nine- before four o'clock, and 

twist and pet your vines before the sun 
comes to look at them. Then, because 
your wife has worked bv vour side all 



EUROPE IX STORM AND calm. 



295 



clay, — that is the fashion in vineyard 
land, — you must help her in the kitchen, 
and it is teu o'clock at night before bed- 
time comes. ' ' It rattles your old bones," 
said Pere Jean. But for the hist month 
Pere Jean had done but little work in the 
fields He had been busy with the re- 
ception and care of soldiers of the Prus- 
sian government, and both he and his old 
wife were nearly worn out. Every even- 
ing a corporal arrived with six men for 
Einquarterung, and the household had 
been nightly upset. 

Pere Jean passed for a rich man 
among his simple neighbors. By fifty 
years of industry he had amassed 25,000 
francs, and owned a huge old stone farm- 
house and a huge court with capacious 
stables. " When the first, Prussians 
came the} 7 made a requisition on me 
which quite discouraged me ; but since 
then, voyez-vous" he said, " I have 
become used to it. They took from me 
thirty casks of wine, my best cattle, and 
pretty nearly all my linen, which was 
my wife's especial pride." lie said that 
it was hard for him to believe that war 
consisted in taking his cattle and his 
wine, as well as his first-born ami his 
dearest son. 

While our dinner was cooking over a 
huge open fireplace we went into the 
stables, and saw the beautiful, strong 
animals, which served the royal despatch- 
bearers ; and here the Prussian postilions 
were moaning over a number of superb 
beasts which were dying from the effects 
of hard work and the climate. After 
many difficulties we arranged to leave 
the next morning with the post-wagoh 
bound forCorbeil; whence to Versailles 
we could push on alone. 

All through this champagne country 
the peasantry are of the simplest habits. 
Their ideas of comfort and elegance are 
primitive in the extreme. In one corner 



of the huge old kitchen, into which the 
farmer ushered us stood an enormous 
curtained bed. One or two chairs, 
some benches, and a table were all 
the remaining furniture. Above, the 
bed-chambers were of Pompeian simplic- 
ity. The floors were of stone, and the 
beds were hard and small. The house 
stood at the bottom of a huge court-yard 
which opened on the street by means of 
a huge door, to which was appended a 
heavy knocker. We were given a great 
chamber, only used in times of peace 
for bridals, funerals, anil rustic balls, 
and there we deposited our mat tresses on 
the floor, the only couch in it being cov- 
ered with the remnants of the good wife's 
linen-chest, and our host evidently dis- 
liking to displace them. The old woman, 
whose limbs were stiff with long labor in 
the fields, informed us that she had not 
strength to serve ; and we were obliged 
to wait upon our own table. Towards 
eight o'clock arrived the usual comple- 
ment of German soldiery, who brought 
their own provisions with them and 
cooked them, then sat quietly before 
the fireside late into the night, singing 
quaint hymns and soldier songs, in which 
we could find no taint of vulgarity. By 
midnight all was still ; ami the trumpets 
of the postilions, blended with the chant 
of a cavalry troop going past, aroused us 
in the morning. 

Old Pere Jean was very explicit in 
his reproaches against the Emperor. 
" Now, then," said he, taking a spoonful 
of coffee in his trembling hand as we were 
leaving in the morning, " if I could buy 
the. Emperor back with that. I would not 
do it. I have long enough voted and 
labored for him, but now. after what he 
has done. I cannot, think of any fate bad 
enough for him." He thought that the 
people of his section might revolt one 
day unless the rigor of the requisitions 



296 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

was softened. "We have patience," "The French Republic, 1870. Liberty, 

he added, " because France lias in a Equality, Fraternity." Here, for the 

measure brought this war on herself; first time also, we saw sentinels at the 

lint we must net lie pushed." entrance of a town. They were sheltered 

A little after dawn we went away at in little straw-covered boxes; and were 

tin. 1 head of a long train of wagons continually mi the alert to .salute the 

loaded with the royal mail. Each of officers ami question the peasants who 

these wagons had a comfortable coupi passed in and out. Towards dusk we 

in front with room I'm' authorized pas- came to the gate of a chateau, thirty-two 

sengers. But the transportation of kilometers from Paris ; and in front of 

civilians was forbidden. Our military the gates the postilions began playing 

passes seemed to entitle us to the privi- cheery tunes upon their horns. 
lege of journeying with this postal train ; The chateau stood in the midst, of a 

and presently we gut away through a fertile plain, with gently sloping hills in 

country much frequented by Francs- the distance. It was one of those an- 

Tireurs, without any guard of soldiers ; cient manors upon which, in all old 

and we observed that the postilions car- countries, generally hangs a dirty and 

ried no visible weapons. There were sordid dependency of a hamlet, notable 

sixteen wagons, each drawn by three chiefly for its hovels and unclean streets. 

horses. The drivers were all from North As we entered on the turf-carpeted green 

Germany. They wore a handsome uui- of the castle a body of Wurtemburg 

form of dark blue, bordered with red. soldiers marched out to meet us, and the 

Each carried a horn suspended at his side, chorus of horns from the old servants' 

Of these men there are several thousand hall of the domain made the night- 

iu the Prussian service. The Bavarian air melodious. There was a whiff of 

ami Saxon armies also have their field- rain in the atmosphere; a light wind 

post. The orders were never to halt tugged at the masses of dead leaves in 

save when the horses must rest and be the forest, seeming to urge them to 

fed. Two conductors, who rode some fantastic dances. A Pomeranian, deco- 

distance ahead, marked out the routes ated with all the colors in the Prussian 

for the journeys, taking always the military chrome, came out to meet us. 

shortest and least crowded way. I )c- " You are just in lime." he said ; "there 

spite their adroitness we were often bin- was an alerte, as the French call i(, on 

dered by long teams of munition-wagons, your route about an hour ago; but no 

which were slowly making their way along one was hurt." lie invited us to stay 

the muddy hills. For half a mile along and sup with the postilions; but we 

(lie road from Nanteuil we saw nothing sought lodgings outside the chateau 

but immense heaps of cannon-balls. In gates at the hostelry. It could only 

many places rude booths for the sale afford us one room and no bedding, so 

of provisions to passing soldiers had we slept on chairs as best we could, 

been established. We went on through much disturbed by the boisterous songs 

Laferte-sous-.louarrc to Coulomniicres, sung by Pomeranian troopers, who 

where there were many hundreds of sol- were drinking in the room below. The 

diers quartered, and where, for the first burden of the principal song was " Jesu, 

timesince the declaration of the Republic, Maria;" whence I concluded that our 

I saw these words inscribed on an edifice : military friends were religiously disposed. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



297 



Our host came to talk with us late at 
night, saying, when asked if he could 
furnish provisions, wine, etc., that he 
had nothing left. But when he found that 
we were neither Prussians nor French, 
and were certain to pay him, he filled 
our baskets from a well-stocked larder. 
We were off again at sunrise, clatter- 
ing through a blinding rain, and en route 
for Tournois, a quaint and pleasant 
town. At each itape, or post, our passes 
were visid, and we were often questioned 
concerning our business at head-quarters. 
About noon we passed through a great 
forest, and saw numbers of horses with 
their throats cut lying by the road-side, 
where they had fallen from fatigue. 
One or two were not dead, as we passed 
them, and it was piteous to hear them 
neigh faintly as they heard the sound of 
hoofs. Their butchers, some Bavarians, 
were just ahead, and from them we 
learned that a heavy fight had taken 
place three days before, at Dreux. 
Here, also, we saw some Uhlans for- 
aging. Two of them rode up to a village 
at a little distance from the road, and 
presently overtook us with some fat hens 
tied to their saddle-bows. An old woman 
ran out after them, looking wistfully at 
her poultry, — perhaps not the first she 
had been called upon to furnish. The 
rain came rolling down in great spouts 
across the plain on which we now 
entered; and some of the weaker Prus- 
sians and Bavarians — part of a march- 
ing column which we were passing — 
sank down by the road-side. Our drivers 
heeded none of their appeals to betaken 
up, and told us that it was against orders 
to carry a soldier. Many of the younger 
men were so stiff that they could not 
move their limbs, and some French 
peasants, overcome by pity, put them 
into their carts, and thus they jolted 
wearily along. We passed, this day, 



about one thousand wagons at different 
periods, all laden with sick and wounded, 
coming down from " Vor Paris." These 
were most pitiful to look upon. Many 
of the men were half dead with fever, 
others so grievously wounded that at 
every jolt of the rough carts cries of 
pain were wrung from them. Three or 
four of these wretches were always 
huddled together under a little canvas 
covering, and lay groaning, a mass of 
sickness and desolation. Beside these 
processions always rode a guard of the 
watchful Uhlans. Towards evening we 
reached Corbeil, where the French, 
in a frenzied horror on learning of the 
approach of the Prussians, had blown 
up one of the finest bridges on the Seine. 
The Prussians insisted that the French 
should have this repaired by a certain 
date, or pay a heavy flue. The date 
was passed when we arrived, but the 
work was not completed. Two tempo- 
rary bridges allowed the army free pas- 
sage; and here at Corbeil the Prussians 
had established a strong depot for mili- 
tary stores. As we descended the steep 
hill leading into the town the thunder 
of the Prussian cannon was plainly 
heard. All Corbeil was in excitement. 
The cannon had not been heard before 
for many days, and the inhabitants con- 
cluded that a general action was taking 
place. Montrouge was barking furi- 
ously in return ; and now and then the 
sonorous voice of Mont Valerien was 
heard clamoring for war. To this 
music we sat down to supper. Find- 
ing that if one went into the streets 
after seven o'clock he was liable to 
arrest, we rolled into the first comforta- 
ble beds we had seen for three days. 
Here were also mountains of mail matter, 
and here the roads were worn out with 
the constant passage of heavy army 
trains. The mud was so deep that, a 



298 



EUROPE I.X STORM AND CALM 



wagon once fixed in it, the united efforts 
of a whole company could scarcely stir 
it. It was evident that for the good lady 
of the inn where we staved the war had 
its revenges, for her customers were all 
officers of superior grade, and paid 
roundly for what they had. The rail- 
way station had been closed for two 
months. The clock was stopped at ten 
minutes past eight, the hour when the 
last train left tin 1 town. Towards noon 
of the next day my companions de- 
parted for Lagny, and I climbed alone 
into the post wagon of the Third army 
Corps, said post wagon being a dilapi- 
dated omnibus which formerly ran to 
Lonjumeau. We took two soldiers as a 
guard, and clattered away over the 
hills, shortly to meet a convoy of un- 
happy French prisoners marching from 
Dreux down to the railway of Lagny, 
thence to be sent into Germany. This 
was one of the saddest spectacles I had 
seen. The whole ghastly mass of men, 
faltering past, hurried forward rather 
brutally by cavalry, the wounded 
crowded in carls, and hanging down 
their feverish heads, the women stand- 
inn' in the doorways, and calling on God 
to crush the Prussians, the hungry looks 
of the officers as they saw through the 
open windows their enemies feasting in 
cabarets, — all this left a pang in my 
mind, and cut to the heart. 

The nearer one approached Versailles, 
the more evident it was that the ( iermans 
had come for a long stay. " Not even 
if Talis makes peace to-morrow," said a 
Wurtemburg officer to me, '-will the 
troops he withdrawn until the caution 
money" —as he called it — "is paid." 
Some of the villages along the road pre- 
sented quite a holiday appearance: a 
regimental hand was giving a morning 
concert in one ; in another, there was a 
review of cavalry, at which the inhabi- 



tants were witnesses without expression 
of approval or discontent. In every 
town there was a battery and a sanitary 
station. All the important places of 
business were closed, and at Villeneuve 
SI. Georges, a beautiful suburban resort 
for Parisians, there were only a few- 
people left. The houses which had been 
closed by their owners remained un- 
touched, — no troops were quartered in 
or near them. 

We drew up before the chief bureau 
of the Prussian military post-office, hav- 
ing made our nine leagues from Corbeil 
to Versailles in three hours and a half . 
There was a sullen, ominous roaring in 
the direction of Paris, which, at first, 
seemed to lie steadily approaching; but 
I soon became accustomed to the voices 
of the forts. 

In the hotel, where I succeeded after 
many entreaties in getting a lodging, all 
the soldiers who had been quartered 
there for the last two months had pet 
names, and took part in the household 
drudgery, as if they were sons of the 
family. On the evening of my arrival 
a wretched sneak of a Bavarian, newly 
arrived, had stolen a little spaniel, which 
was one of the household treasures, and 
a whole corporal's guard was turned out 
to bring hill) to justice. The dog was 
found, and the ollieer.in investigating the 
case, made as much ado as if it had 
been theft: of an object of art from the 
palace. The landlady, who was highly 
confidential, informed me that two of 
the best of her invading friends. August 
and Heinrich, were to go to Orleans to- 
morrow. " It is a burning shame." 
saiil the old lady. " to send such hand- 
some boys as that to lie slaughtered ; " 
and she looked quite disconsolate. 
•• When the Prussians are gone," she 
remarked shortly afterwards, " it will 
he very lonesome at Versailles: there 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



299 



will be nothing but yon casual stran- 
gers* 

The invaders bowed not only to the 
charms but to the authority of the 
French serving-maids. In the front 
parlor of the inn, on this evening in 
question, I remarked four stalwart 
fellows who had just arrived with their 
liillets all in proper order. In hearty 
German style they began to clamor, 
"Madame! Here! Attention! Bed! 
A light! Supper!" Upon this, the 
beautiful housemaid came upon the 



scene, withering them all with a glance. 
" Silence, you noisy dragons! You big 
one with a white cap, take off your 
sword, and sit down ! Silence, all of 



you 



Cowed and overwhelmed, al- 



though not understanding a word, the 

hungry fellows sat down, nor dared to 
stir until Agues found time to serve 
them, an hour or two later. If one pre- 
sumed to proffer gallantry he had good 
reason to remember the avenging arm of 
Agnes. 



300 EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE. 

The Period of Hope. — Splendid Improvisation of Defense. — What Paris did under Pressure. — The 
Forts and their Armament. — The Departure of Gambcttn in :t Balloon. — Outcroppings of the Com- 
mune — Fights outside the Walls of the Capital. — The Defense of Chatcaudun. — A Bright Page in 
French Military Annals. — A Panic al Versailles. — Von Moltkc saves his Papers. — German Prepa- 
rations for I defense. 

NO doubt the Government of Na- honorable because it offered such a 

tional Defense received a severe striking contrast to their negligence, 

moral shock from the tone of the inter- carelessness, and want of thought under 

\ iew which its representative had had at the Empire. 

Ferrieres with the exacting and uncom- The government found that it was no 
promising enemy; still, the period of small task to man the walls of Paris, 
the siege of Paris comprised between The chain of forts from Charenton, 
the occupation of Versailles and the first stretching entirely round the city, cov- 
days of November may lie characterized ered a distance of no less than thirty- 
as the period of hope. The position of nine kilometres, without counting the 
the Germans for forty days alter their detached works, some of which, like Mont 
arrival was by no means secure. They Valerien, were enormous and formidable 
had but a comparatively small army at fortresses. These forts, — Charenton, 
their disposition, with which to under- Vincennes, Nogent, Rosuy, Noisy, In- 
take the most formidable investment of mainville, Aubervilliers, Est, Double 
the century. So long as Strasbourg and Couronne du Nord, La Ibcchc, Mont 
Metz delayed before their fortifications Valerien, Issy, Vanves, Montrouge, 
(he other German troops which were so Bieetre, and Ivry, — sixteen in number, 
necessary to the investment of Paris, were from three to four thousand metres 
Von Moltke could scarcely have felt apart, with the exception of La Breehe 
certaiu of accomplishing his task. The and Mont Valerien, which were sep- 
fortunes of war might have placed him arated by a gap of more than twelve 
in a humiliating and inextricable posi- thousand metres, and Mont Valerien 
tion, and the King of Prussia might have and Issv seventy-five hundred metres 
found himself prisoner in Fiance, while apart. None of these forts were more 
the Emperor of France was a prisoner in than five thousand, ami some of them 
Germany. ()f course the Germans had were only fifteen hundred, metres from 
a perfect plan for laying the siege, as Paris proper. To guard the ninety-four 
they had plans for everything else, pre- bastions of this tremendous circle of 
pared and practised for half a genera- stone anil iron more than one hundred 
tion. thousand, men were necessary, of reg- 
While they were doing as best they ular troops, tin' Committee of National 
could with the forces at their command Defense found that it could count upon 
outside, the besieged Parisians were scarcely sixty thousand of all branches, 
working with an energy all the more most of them brought hack bv General 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



301 



Vinoy from the neighborhood of Sedan. 
But there were the three hundred and 
fifty or three hundred and sixty thousand 
National Guards, and to them it was 
thought, despite the fears that they 
might undertake an insurrection of 
communistic character, necessary to 
confide the defense of the fortifica- 
tions. 

But this was not all. The men were 
found ; the guards of the ramparts were 
found ; but each bastion ought for safety 



find a garrison, well controlled, well 
equipped, and full of tight. 

The astonishing energy of our northern 
towns in our civil war was more than 
paralleled; it was fairly outdone by the 
gigantic and swift efforts of the Repub- 
lican government in Paris to build up the 
material for defense. 

The committee organized a corps of 
from sixty to seventy thousand men, 
soldiers or artisans of the better class, 
whose special duty was to make the 




CAMP OF THE FRENCH MARINES AT ST. VITRY. 



to be armed with seven pieces of cannon. 
Paris ought, in short, to have two great 
parks of artillery, each with two hundred 
and fifty cannon, in its reserve ; but the 
Empire had left it next to nothing. 
There were in the magazines neither 
shells nor the elements necessary to 
manufacture them. There were only 
about two million pounds of powder, or 
scarcely ten rounds apiece, to the cannon 
which Paris would have to possess if it 
made a respectable defense. In some 
of the forts there was only a guardian to 
watch over the material, where the 
Republican authorities had expected to 



cannon, the powder, and the other 
instruments of defense, and to put them 
into position. Without and within tiie 
city the activity for more than a month 
was incessant night and day. More 
than two million sacks filled with earth 
were placed upon the most exposed por- 
tions of the ramparts; in the bastions, 
great hogsheads, packed with sand, so 
arranged that they might serve as a 
second line of defense, were placed. 
Seventy powder magazines were impro- 
vised. Six of the principal forts were 
occupied by marines, taken from the 
ships which had proved so useless in the 



302 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



first part of the campaign. Electric 
lights, destined to prevent operations in 
the fields round Paris by the enemy 
dining the night, were established on all 
the forts. The Seine was barred. The 
dozens of villages round aboul the 
capital were entrenched ; the houses were 
loopholed ; the streets were Tilled with 
barricades; and eighty thousand men 
were put upon this work of fortifying 
the villages in a single day. A fort- 
night after the committee had begun its 
work two thousand one hundred and 
forty cannon were placed i.: position, 

and the store of powder had been 
increased to mole than six million 
pounds. The public service of water 
had been cared for, so that the enemy 
could not reduce the fortress by thirst ; 
and the commission of civil engineers 
had ordered from the manufactories, 
hastily installed, more than one hundred 
mitrailleuses of different models, one 
hundred and fifteen Gatling and Chris- 
tophe guns, three hundred and twelve 
thousand cartridges for these cannon, 
fifty mortars with their accessories, 

five hundred thousand shells of various 
calibre, live thousand bombs, three 
hundred cannon of :i special new model, 
intended to carry as far as the German 
guns, which were said to be coming up 
for the threatened bombardment ; and, 
finally, there was a commission of bar- 
ricades, over which M. Rochefort hail 
been called to preside, and which was 
supposed to lie planning a net-work of 
harriers to constitute a third and final 
line oi defense in case the enemy suc- 
cessfully undertook an assault and was 
willing to indulge in the dangerous game 
of street-fighting. 

So. in this period of hope, the whole 
city was transformed into ;i vast camp 
and factory. The whole enceinte of the 
fortifications was divided into nine sec- 



tions, seven of which were commanded by 
admirals, under whose orders were the 
National Guard of Paris, divided into a 
first line on the ramparts, and a reserve. 
Behind these were the National Guard 
Mobile, :is a second reserve, and the 
troops of th" line as a third. The artil- 
lery on the left bank of the Seine was 
commanded by a division-general named 
Bentzman, and General Pelissier com- 
manded that of the right bank. After a 
time, a service of gun-boats on the Seine 
was organized, and did considerable dam- 
age to the enemy. The fatal weakness 
of the defense was not to be remedied, 
lor i lie Germans had done their best as 
soon as they could get to the point where 
it was manifest to prevent the Republic 
from repairing the neglect of the Empire. 
The fact that the heights of Montretout 
and Chatillon were not properly forti- 
fied enabled the Germans to bombard 
without difficulty all the forts on the 
southern side of the fortifications of 
Talis, and finally flu 1 whole southern 
section of the capital. If t hatillon had 
been provided with a decent defense it 

is probable that the bombardment of 
1'aris would never have occurred. 

It took the Parisians some time to real- 
ize that they were actually hemmed in ; 
but they were brought to complete reali- 
zation of their position about the ( .>th or 
10th of October, when the supplies of 
fresh meat began to fail, and all classes 
were reduced to horse-tlesh and to a. va- 
riety of ingenious pretexts for meat, 
which reflected much credit on the skill 
of the cooks of Paris, but which did little 
for the nourishment of the human frame. 

■•October the Hth." writes a Parisian, 
in his journal, of the siege, "a chicken 
was sold at 25 francs; vegetables taken 
from the fields just within our picketliues 
and brought in and sold in the streets by 
marauders who had stolen them were 



F.ruoPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



;iu:; 



sold as quickly and for as high prices as 
if they were rare fruits." 

The first cloud that came over the 
period of hope in the Biege was on the 
day when the regular ration — cue hun- 
dred grammes per person — of fresh meat 
gave out, and it was publicly announced 
that no more could be had. The Com- 
munists tried to take advantage of the 
situation. Cynical writers in radical 
papers spoke of a possible revolt of the 
people, and used the sinister phrase : 
"Hunger justifies the means." 

Felix Pvat, the old and dangerous 



People heard of " delegates of commit- 
tees of safety." This Communistic move- 
ment had its head-quarters at Belleville 
and Menilmontant, two sections of the 
city where the working class is in great 
majority. The National ( iuard, recruited 
from these quarters, was watched with 
grave anxiety by the Government of 
National Defense, for it was felt that 
from them would come the first attempt 
at civil war. 

Every day this faction grew holder; 
finally it sent a delegation, headed by 
Flourens, whose history has been re- 







KUNNINO AWAY FROM THE SIEGE. 



offender against the laws of property and 
society, began to prate about the unity 
of goods as well as the unity of danger. 
The central Republican committee of the 
twenty wards of Paris, recently consti- 
tuted, began to publish its manifestoes. 
It was highly patriotic ; hut from the out- 
set it was observed that all its efforts 
tended directly towards the establish- 
ment of the Commune. In one of its cir- 
culars it even demanded tin 1 immediate 
transfcrof thecontrol of municipal affairs 
from the general government to that of 
the ■■ Commune of Paris." The jargon 
of the old Revolution began to appear. 
The ministers were called •■citizens." 



counted in a previous chapter, at the 
head of some battalions, to demand of 
the government a certain number of 
arms, which were lying in the magazines 
of the State to insist that they should 
call for a levie in masse, and that an 
immediate sortie against the Prussians 
should lie decided on. This was the out- 
cropping of revolution with a vengeance, 
and General Trochu and his colleagues 
were unquestionably alarmed. But < len- 
cral Trochu behaved with much clever- 
ness, reproached Flourens for having 
provoked the movement at such a time, 
and begged him to go hack to his duty. 
Flourens immediately resigned his com- 



.•504 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



mission as an officer of the National 
Guard, and a number of his fellow < >tli- 
cers followed Ins example. 

Nothing came of this manifestation, 
except that Flourens declared in the 
circles where he was popular that, in 
order to save Paris, " they would have to 
liliish with these people at the Hotel de 

Ville," — meaning the members of the 
Government of National Defense. 

.Meantime Gambetta, after issuing a 
fiery proclamation announcing that the 
U n't en masse, which the Communists 
had asked for, was already an accom- 
plished fact in the provinces, stepped 
into the car of a balloon, and at the 
risk of his life, or at least of his liberty, 
set oil on a voyage through the air, in 
the hope of reaching Tours, where a 
delegation was doing its best to create a 
solid army. This aerial trip of Gam- 
betta's struck the popular fancy with 
great force, and his successful arrival 
within the French lines outside and the 
occasional reports of his energetic labors 
did much to keep up the spirits of the 
Parisians. 

(iainbetta was a determined enemy of 
the Communistic faction, and the Com- 
munists rejoiced when he had left Paris. 
They made two or three attempts to 
capture the Hotel de Ville at different 
times. These abortive insurrections 
were speedily reported to the Prussians 
at Versailles, and exaggerated accounts 
of them spread about in the German 
lines, and served to explain that which 
the Germans had at first observed with 
astonishment, — that none of the great 
lu.isscs of forces within the walls of the 
capital moved out to assail the auda- 
cious enemy. 

At last military operations were begun 
h\ the Parisians, who now had heard of 
the fall of Strasbourg, and who felt that 
determined efforts to break the German 



circle must bo made before it was 
strengthened. Rut the various sorties 
at Bondy, at Malmaison, where General 
Ducrot expected that he would lind the 
Germans, but did not discover them ; in 
front of the Fort of Montrouge, and at 
that same Chatillon which was already 
associated with so many disasters, — 
were productive of small good to the 
French cause. 

On the 11th of October General 
Trochu thought that, from the great 
movements which were going on among 
the German troops in the rear of the 
south-eastern forts of Chatillon and 
Bagneux along the route from Versailles 
to Choisy, the Germans must have evac- 
uated tin- plateau of Chatillon; so he 
made an effort to retake it. He pushed 
on General Blanchard with about twelve 
thousand men, divided into three columns, 
to a point above Clamart, Chatillon, and 
Bagneux. These troops, supported by 
the forts of Montrouge, Vanves, and 
Issy, went up through the village of 
Clamart on to the road uniting Clamart 
and Chatillon, took the village of Bagn- 
eux, where the brave commandant 
Dampierre was mortally wounded. But 
when these troops came to undertake 
the assault on Chatillon they found that 
they had been entirely mistaken. They 
all beat a hasty retreat before the masses 
of the enemy, which had not the slightest 
intention of giving up its vantage-ground 
in the neighborhood of the capital. 

The death of the commandant Dam- 
pierre made a great sensation in 
Paris. His body was placed in the Pan- 
theon, with the sword of combat laid 
upon his breast, and there was a military 
demonstration at his funeral. 

Two days after this light the Pari- 
sians saw great jets of flame leaping up 
skyward in the direction of St. Cloud. 
This denoted the burning of the Palace, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



305 



set on Breby shells from Mont Valerien, 
because the French believed that the 
Prussians had there established an ob- 
servatory for their general staff. " In 
less than six hours," says M. Jules Cla- 
retie, in his " History of the Revolution 
of 1870-71," "this palace, which had 
received so many distinguished guests 
and seen so many strange fortunes, was 
entirely consumed." M. Claretie is in 
error in this statement. The chateau <>t' 
St. (lend was but partially burned at 
that tune, and hundreds upon hundreds 
of shells were tired into it weekly until 
the capitulation in January. 

Around this Palace, anil all through 
the Park of St. Cloud, as far as Ville 
d'Avray, the lire from the French forts 
was particularly effective, and many a 
stout German was struck down daily by 
the death missiles coming from the un- 
seen enemy. On the day before the 
surrender of the forts I rode to Ville 
d'Avray, and thence walked through the 
Park of St. Cloud, here and there grop- 
ing my way in the trenches roofed with 
tree-boughs, in which the soldiers had 
then been living for more than two 
months, and came out near the ruins of 
the Palace just as the Crown Prince of 
Prussia, attended by a. staff of forty or 
fifty officers, rode up the hill from the 
banks of the Seine, and turned to look 
at the French sharp-shooters, who were 
very numerous along the other bank, and 
who were making great efforts to inflict 
damage. The position was not one to 
be chosen for comfort. The shells came 
crashing into the ruins and along the 
trenches every minute. 1 counted four- 
teen which fell in dose proximity to the 
staff while the group of horsemen halted 
upon the brow of the hill. The ping ot 
the bullets from the French lines was 
incessant; but the Crown Prince, with 
his usual disregard of his own personal 



safety when there was any duty to per- 
forin, had ridden along the whole avenue 
where the fair of St. (loud is usually 
held, and had thus, while quite within 
range, exposed himself to the inimical; 
bullets of two or three hundred soldiers. 

The palace of St. Cloud has never 
been rebuilt. It stands a picturesque 
ruin in the midst of the exquisite forest, 
and the Republican government, which 
has a sense of the fitness of things, has 
repeatedly declined offers from capital- 
ists for its conversion into casinos, crys- 
tal palaces, or gambling-hells. It was 
to this palace that the first Bonaparte 
came after Brumaire : that the victorious 
Blucher entered after Alma ; from this 
palace that the Empress of the French 
returned in haste to perturbed Paris after 
she had heard the news from Sedan ; and 
the Germans say that the Prince Von IIo- 
henzollern, who had been the innocent, 
cause of the whole war. rode up to the 
doors of St. Cloud and straight through 
the deserted palaceon the day after the 
caging of Napoleon III. at Sedan. 

It was from St. Cloud that Napoleon 
III. announced his intention of declaring 
war against ( iermany. 

On the 14th of October the Prussians 
asked for an armistice to bury their dead ; 
and there was much rejoicing in Paris 
over tin- fact that the enemy's losses 
were severe. Every night, and generally 
by day, for the next lew days, the 
cannon on the walls of Paris roared 
unceasingly, wasting hundreds of thou- 
sands of francs' worth of ammunition, as 
those of us who were outside with the 
besiegers could observe. The principles 

which guided the action of tin- French 
artillery-men were a. mystery to the be- 
siegers. 

During the occupation of Versailles I 
used frequently to ride through that 
town to St. Germain, and :if a certain 



306 EUROPE /A STORM AND CALM. 

point on the road came out on a hare hundred paces the Germans arose, and 
hill-side directly facing St. Cloud. This poured a tremendous lire into their 
hill-side was not within range, and the ranks; and from that time forward the 
oiiiinersof Mont Valerien liiusthave found sortie was checked. At nightfall ('■en- 
it out at least a month before my fre- eral Ducrot ordered a retreat, and the 
quent journeys back and forth. But Prussians pursued the retreating French 
they never failed I" salute my appear- with a very disastrous fire, 
ance, or that of any horseman <>n that The French accounts of the panic at 
point upon the route, with half-a-dozen Versailles have been but little exagger- 
cannon shuts, which cost much money, ated. The Germans began to get ready 
and were not of the slightest avail. the reserve batteries, which had been 
)n the 21st of October a second sortie ranged for nunc than a month in long 
of importance look place, about twelve lines on the Place d'Armes, at Versailles, 
thousand men, under the orders <>f Gen- and to station them so that they would 
eral Ducrot, being engaged in it. It sweep the avenues of St. Cloud, of Paris, 
was n reconnaixsance, but prepared for and of Sceaux, in case the French troops 
offensive operations. The troops went arrived. The gates of the city were 
out by liiuil. Bnzenval, Bougival, and closed. Von Moltke, it is reported, de- 
Malmaison. This was a vigorous sortie, strayed a large number of his papers 
and was so well kept up at first that and important despatches, had others 
(luie was a slight panic at Versailles, hastily done up in sheets and towels, 
The Germans, tor half an hour, were ami ready to be carried off, jumped 
occupied with vigorous preparations for on to a horse, and went out to look at. 
departure. Tin- French artillen had the light. It was, probably, his pres- 
opened a heavy fire on Buzcnval and enoe and the few cool bits of advice 
Malmaisoii, and the troops had carried which he gave on arriving on the scene 
the first German positions. But when of action which saved the day. In their 
they had turned Malmaisoii, and gone up retreat the French lost two cannon, 
tlic slopes of Jonchere, they found the which the Fiftieth Prussian infantry took 
enemy ambuscaded in the woods or in from them. 

the houses of the village too strong for In the provinces, the army of the 

them. They asserted, with truth, that Loire, which was destined to such a sad 

a short time after the announcement of fate, was by the end of October in fairly 

the battle, all along the line, even up to good condition. There had been a battle 

Montretout, they had a distinct advan- and a French defeat at Orleans, where 

tage The Germans lost heavily, the an army corps composed of Bavarians 

Fortv-sixthPrussian regiment being quite and Prussians under the command of 

cut to pieces. The Parisians were very General Von der Tann, and a detach- 

indigiiant at the manoeuvres of the Ger- ment of cavalry commanded by Prince 

mans, who, while standing under a heavy Albrecht of Prussia, were operating. 

tire, threw themselves down in great dis- The little town of Chateaudun had made 

order, as if they were nearly all killed, a defense so heroic against over- 

or about to craw! away. This ruse de- whelming numbers that the renown of 

ceived the French, who dashed forward, its exploits penetrated into every circle 

thinking that thev could rush over the in Europe and even won the admiration 

enemy; hut ■.■.hen they were at three of the enemy. The anniversary of this 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



307 



defense has become a commemorative fete 
in France, and the " Francs-Tireurs," or 
irregular volunteers, who held this town 
until it was almost burned to ashes, 
against a Prussian division of twelve 
thousand men. with twenty-four pieces 
nf artillery, deserve tn rank beside the 
heroes of the Alamo. 

Chateaudun was pillaged first and 
burned afterwards by the angry enemy, 
which had nut seen any such resistance 
since it, had entered the country. The 
German accounts of the bombardment 
and sacking of the town furnish sufficient 
accusation against the victors, who, in 
this case, abused their power. 
statement in the official journal of 
Berlin shortly alter the affair thus 
describes the condition of the town of 
Chateaudun: "Demolished walls, over- 
turned gateways, and pierced roofs make 
tiie streets nearly impassable. The 
church itself has been almost destroyed 
by shells; immense blocks of stone are 
turn from its wall; the tiles are scattered 
like leaves in a finest; and a. grenade 
has blown the belfry half away. Entire 
sheets were in tlames when the troops 
entered. The extent of the conflagration 
and the violence of the storm of wind 
which carried the flames hither and yon 
rendered any idea of extinguishing the 
fire impracticable. .There was scarcely 
a, decent room to lie had in the town for 
Prince A.lbrecb.1 and the commanders of 



his division. The officers bivouacked 
with the (loops in tin' open air. I )ui ini^ 
the engagement of the previous night 
the French had neglected their wounded, 
a great number of whom remained in the 
streets, and were burned alive. On the 
morning of the 20th, at five o'clock, the 
Prussian division took up its march 
again. The tlames which still came 
from the ruins were so strong that they 
lit up the horizon as clearly as if it 
were day." 

Chateaudun thus became celebrated in 
French annals. The government issued 
in ils favor the customary decree: 
" Chateaudun has merited well of the 
country." Paris named one of its 
streets after the unhappy town. Victor 
Hugo, when some huge cannon were 
going on to the fortifications, demanded 
that one of them should he called 
Chateaudun. 

St. Quentin, in the north, had also 
made an heroic resistance. The period 
of hopefulness was not yet over, but it 
was greatly clouded by the unfortunate 
termination of the brilliant affair at Le 
Bourget, by the announcement of the 
fall of Metz, by the government's de- 
termination to propose an armistice, and 
by the Communistic insurrection of the 
.", 1st of October, when Paris seemed 
to escape civil war by nothing less 
than the interposition of Providence. 



308 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO. 

The Siege of Metz. -Its Tragedies and its Humors. — Steinmctz the Terrible. - Bazaine's ( lurious Indcci- 
sion.- The Guerilla Warfare around the Fortress. Hie Poisoned Wells Legend. Starving the 
Citizens. -The Odor of Death. — General Changarnier's Miss 

XX the north-western part of that ganizing foreign expeditions one-half of 
pictui'esque and rich departineul of the time he had given to the protection 
France known as the Moselle stands an of himself from his own enraged country- 
almost impregnable fortress, which for men. The Romans, with their rare eyes, 
seventy davs occupied the attention of found Metz a stronghold of strongholds, 
the whole civilized world. The battles and named it Divodoruin. Here the Me- 
vvhich were fought near its walls were diomatrici, a powerful and warlike tribe, 
such as were never seen upon the windy then lived, and from the corruption of 
plains of Troy, — ■ battles which cling in various dialects in pronouncing their 
the memory like a hideous nightmare, name finally arose the sobriquet of 
redeemed here and there by some act of Metz. In l.">i > the Huns destroyed the 
purifyin°" heroism, some sublim&example town; but as this was before it, had risen 
of dun and faith and patience. One to a walled fortress, the Metzers boast 
hundred and seventy-three thousand that it never has been " taken.*' It is 
men at last surrendered there to barely near the north-eastern Franco-Prussian 
two hundred thousand, and the shame- frontier, and the country around is strik- 
ful campaign seemed at its climax, ingly beautiful. The Prussian soldiers, 
Bazaine had stained his name with igno- who could not be hindered from pausing 
miny ; and Canrobert, whether or not he to admire nature's beauties, even when 
were culpable, was at last doomed to do they were making their first memorable 
penance for being so lone- \ n bad com- march into Austria, in L866, must have 
pany. These two were most efficient lingered often by the way when ap- 
witnesses to the truth of the assertion proaching the environs of Metz. The 
that the Empire was not able to raise up city, set down in front, of a noble back- 
men lo protect France. The stronghold ground formed by lulls tinged with hrill- 
of the country, the much-coveted gate, iant colors and crowned with thick 
was unlocked; and who now could check forests, the greal spires of the Cathedral 
the descendants of the lirandenburg looming high in air. and to the front 
pirates? Not even the army of the Loire, the fertile plains, with the silver threads 
not even Garibaldi, nor yet the fiery, un- of the Moselle and Seille winding 
famed Gambetta, seemed able to slay through them, make a perfect picture. 
the avenging hand which had been The heavy masonry, the castellated 
stretched over France. towers of the Porte des Allemands, and 
The Germans were wont to say that the huge elbow of the ramparts, which 
Metz was the sortie gate for France, as projected into the Mosenthal, — the Mo- 
indeed it might have been to Prussia's selle valley, — reminded every approach- 
humiliation, hail Napoleon spenl in or- ing visitor that Met/, was eminently a 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



309 



fortress town. "Wist :nnl north-wesl 
led away the two roads on which the 
terrible battles of the 14th, 16th, and 18th 
of August, 1870, were fought; and near 
by are the heights which were stormed 
at such dreadful cost. The villages in 
the vicinity are, with rare exceptions, 
miserably pom-. The farmers give more 
attention to their fields than to their 
homes, and there is small evidence of 
culture of the grace of hospitality. 

Met/, was tin' capital of Lorraine even 
as early as the time of Clovis, the first 
of the French kings. It was later a free 
city, called Imperial. In the I lth cen- 
tury it was German, and remained so 
until 1G48, when it became French by 
the Treaty of Westphalia. The fortress 
was begun in the 16th century, by the 
( ihevalier de Ville, and constant improve- 
ments have been made since that time. 
The Germans are pounding away at it 
even now, and they have metamorphosed 
the names of streets and ramparts, forts 
and gateways, in the .same manner as at 
Strasbourg. Vauban strengthened and 
enlarged the work. The model of the 
fortress was one of the treasures of a 
military museum at Paris, was taken 
by the allies in 1815, and is now pre- 
served in Berlin. The city stands on 
the right bank of the Moselle, at a point 
where the river is about two hundred 
paces wide. The Moselle and the Seille 

are crossed by seventeen bridges, few of 
which are architecturally line. There 
are seven gates ill the walls, all im- 
mensely thick and strong. 

In I860 France began hastily to in- 
crease the strength of Metz ; but the 
Germans must have smiled in their 
sleeves as they reflected that this pre- 
caution came too late. Germany made 
no distinct claim on Metz as upon Stras- 
bourg; hut the Germans recall with 
pride the fact that German arms are 



s^ill fo be found on the chapel and in the 
Place Napoleon, as it was called at 

the time of the war. There are three 
ishnids iii the river, — St. Symphorien, 
Sauley, and Chambiere. On the cast, 
at some distance from the city, stands 
the great fori of Belle Croix, renamed 
by the Germans; and to the west the 
bridges were guarded by Fort Moselle. 
Here also was an entrenched camp, ca- 
pable of containing many thousands of 
men. The outermost fort was perhaps 

a mile from the city proper, and the cir- 
cumference of the whole work was about 
six miles. Metz was most important as 
an arsenal (own, having for many years 
contained the principal stores of weapons 
in France. Its hospitals were also the 
finest outside Paris, and its manufacto- 
ries of cloths, woollen wares, needles, etc., 
are still celebrated in both hemispheres. 
The trade between Metz and all parts 
of Germany was always extremely brisk, 
and its interruption was not one of the 
lightest burdens of the war. Many of the 

old churches date from the twelfth cen- 
tury. St. Stephen's cathedral is remark- 
able for the beauty of it- stained-glass 
windows. At the outbreak of the war 
the town was undoubtedly French in 
spirit. The fairest German writers admit 
this. 

One morning Marshal Bazaine, ser- 
vitor of the Empire and Mexican specu- 
lator, found that formidable forces had 
hemmed him in on even - side as the 
result of the five days' lights, the ter- 
rible encounters at Mars la-Tour, at 
Gravelotte, and Borny, of those sangui- 
nary events which led to the catastrophe 
of Sedan. Bazaine and his men dis- 
covered that Metz was really invested; 
that the enemy lav perdu all around 

them; but n<> one could discover why 
Bazaine chose to remain besieged when 
he might, with a great army, have cast 



310 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

] lis fortune upon the adventure of a few province. The soldiers in front of Metz 

hours and tried to cut his way out. The regretted this movement, and it is an 

Prussians harried him night and day, open secret thai there was much sulki- 

aud wearied his broken soldiery very ness and even incipient mutiny for a 

badlv. Meantime General Steinmetz short time; but it was soon forgotten 

had been removed from the important aniidsl stronger excitements, 
post which In' had for some time held Prince Friederich Karl, now made com- 

in the Prussian army, because the ven- manding-general in front of Metz, estab- 

erable King of Prussia had declared that lished his head-quai - ters at Doncourt, to 

he would not always have bl Ished the which point the "Battle of the five 

only means of arriving at position. The days" laid extended; and there, while 

flashing veteran general, a compound of suffering from a tedious illness produced 

Blucher and Sheridan, had won ureal by excessive labor, he carried on his be- 

praise by the rapidity, not to say reck- sieging operations. Nearly a quarter of 

lessn ss. of his movements in August, a million men were stationed round about 

lie l.ad begun that chain of battles the fortress, and holding at bay, as it were. 

which resulted so favorably to the Prus- a well-provisioned, healthy, and reason- 

sian armies by crossing tin 1 Moselle and ably resolute army of nearly two hun- 

advanciug under the gates of Metz. But dred thousand men. Three marshals of 

it so happened that lie had disobeyed the the French Empire wen' also imprisoned 

positive orders of his commander, — to in (his living ring. From time to time 

pass over the Moselle on the south side in- rumors of brilliant attempts on the 

stead of the north. It was claimed thai part of these great marshals to cut their 

a great sacrifice of life in tin Seventh and way through the Prussians reached the 

Eighth German army corps was due to this besieged residents of Paris. But the 

disobedience of orders, as, by the move- ring was never cut. 

nieiif commanded, Steinmetz would have Bazaiue gave plenty of advice to his 

avoided the French positions near Mos- men. lie was always a good talker, 

cow and St. Hubert, and the Germans An ex-confederate, who had met him in 

would have hail the advantage of higher Mexico, once said to me of Bazaine : 

ground than their enemies. Il is also •• Cest, mi cmtneur adorable quand il a 

argued that Bazaine's return to Metz on deux verres de Cognac dans le ventre." 

the morning of the 19th of August would But of real knowledge he had little; and 

have been impossible. So, although the his geographical acquirements were ridic- 

aged General Steinmetz won an almost ulously small. He told his men in Metz 

incredible victory at Horny, lie was rep- how to get out of (he position into which 

rimanded very severely by the King, hi' seemed to have forced them. lie 

who scowled upon him as Washington said. " You must be constantly on the 

did upon Lee at Monmouth. Steinmetz alert to harass the enemy. He must 

received the rebuke in grim silence, and have no rest. With a few biscuits and 

evidently did not appreciate it. The a great many cartridges, you must creep 

King then ordered him to report to Prince upon him al all hours, and shoot at him 

Friederich Karl, which made him very from all positions. Offensive reconnoi- 

angry, and his relations soon became so tring must be your strong point. This 

ba.| with that general that hi' was re- must be done by columns, which can 

called, and made Governor of a Prussian never get seriously injured. Very soon 



EUROPE IN SToRH AND CALM. 



311 



you will know the enemy's positions. 
You will keep up your own good-humor 
by constant adventures against him, and 
you will eventually be able to get pro- 
visions, and even cannon. You must 
never be long away from camp. Your 
pickets must be on the qui-vive. You 
must live, eat. hope, and dream on a 
battle-field for, God knows, how many 
weeks and months yet." In conclusion 
he said, on one occasion. ■• A most im- 
portant thing is to win as much time as 
possible, for here, as in England, time is 
money." 

In view of Bazaine's utter failure in 
Metz how suspicious docs this twaddling 
advice sound! It is not difficult to be- 
lieve the accusation so often brought 
against him after the fall of the Empire, 
that he was a traitor, and that he had 
deliberately made up his mind to sacri- 
fice his army rather than to strike a 
blow which should profit the newly born 
Republic. 

Skirmishes and reconnaissances were 
frequent enough in front of the old town 
from Aug. 20 until late in September. 
A column of Argus-eyed Frenchmen, 
hard-headed old boys, wary as Indians. 
could any morning be seen filing out of 
the gate of the city, the watchful ser- 
geant at the head frowning if a man 
stepped on a twig. These little parties 
would fall suddenly upon a German out- 
post, spread an alarm along the line. 
hack, burn, plunder, and destroy, and 
sweep back again under cover of the 
forts. Then would come a retaliatory 
charge of Uhlans; but these generally 
left their bodies to repose in French soil. 
for there were sharp-shooters every- 
where, and it was unsafe some mornings 
for the Germans even to go a few steps 
outside the place of their encampment. 
Death came on wings, and lighted even 
into places apparently most secure. 



Men were found dead in spots where it 
seemed as if no enemy and no enemy's 
bullet could have penetrated. The ven- 
detta of Metz began to have grave 
terrors for the bravest. 

The Germans had excellent facilities 
for observing the condition of the town, 
but they could not forewarn troops 
against these perpetual sorties. Up to 
the 30th of August it seemed to the 
French as if Bazaine were still making 
efforts to free himself from the inimical 
ring into which he had voluntarily re- 
tired; and, just before the surrender of 
Sedan, the army of Metz gave the be- 
sieging armies a severe shock - , and. for 
a few hours, seemed certain of victory. 
This was tin' light in which a German 
division was so severely cut up that a 
wail went out throughout all Germany. 
The lo-ses on the German side were the 
most tremendous of the war. Extra 
efforts were at once made for the reduc- 
tion of the town after this little experi- 
ence. The Germans were very strongly 
entrenched, but now hastened to make 
their position stronger, and began to 
imitate the French plan of constant 
sorties. The Moselle valley rang with 
the dash of arms. The Germans were 
sometimes surprised at breakfast, and 
mown down before they could wink. 
But this only happened when the out- 
posts were kidnapped and carried away 
without noise. Little by little, however, 

the endeavors of Bilzame himself to 
promote sorties became less conspicuous ; 
Inn the imprisoned defenders rebelled 
against the policy of inaction, and so all 
round the vast hues the annoying rushes 
and the mysterious murders went on. 

On the cast lav the German troops which 
had been under Steinmetz's command, 
— the First, and Seventh army corps ; on 
the south and west, the Guards, and the 
Second, Third. Fourth. Eighth. Ninth, 



312 EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM 

Tenth, and Eleventh army corps; the Moselle, and all the other dogs of war 
Saxon corps, the Twelfth, guarded the barked constantly. Sometimes a Ger- 
north. man soldier on picket duty at the 
There was. say the German accounts entrance of n little village was Mown to 
of the siege, a) this time, a heavy, moist pieces, and little was found to signify 
odor of death in the air night and day. that he had not deserted his post save a 
It came from the hastily buried dead, gun, a helmet, or a glove. Patrols and 
The men threatened to mutiny on both pickets became so used to dodging 
sides alter the battle of Horny, because death that they invented nicknames for 
they weii' not allowed to bury the fast- the expedients they were obliged to 
decaying horses, which had been left pursue. So the slow weeks passed, 
uncovered, and which were breeding a Then came the sharp fighting at Mercy- 
plague. Hut there was only time to le-Haut, south-east of Metz ; and grad- 
throw a thin covering of earth over them, ually September waned without results 
As for soldiers who were killed at Metz on either side. The Prussians found it 
during the siege, in most cases their difficult to get enough to eat, and both 
craves were due' put a foot deep, and, besiegers and besieged fell upon captured 
in many instances, the feet and the hands knapsacks and shook out of them the 
were left, sticking out of tile ground, pieces (if bread which they contained 
The market tenders, as the sutlers are with the eagerness of starvation. But 
called in the German army, observing Germany began to send up provision- 
that the troops drank more while this trains full of love gifts. October 
horrible smell endured, used numerous arrived. The besieging troops heard 
efforts to prevent them from burying the that the King and the Crown Prince 
bodies, and even invented false alarms were in front of Paris. One or two 
to divert burial parties from their work, more disastrous collisions, — disastrous 
This statement was seriously made in to both sides, — and the siege entered 
letters written to Germany from the upon its final phase, that of sullen en- 
camps of th" besiegers. A few sutlers durance of privation b\ the invader 
being shot, however, by order of the and the invaded. 

commanders, this kind of enterprise was The German soldiers, during theirlong 

checked. Dysentery came to race in stay in front of Metz, contented them- 

t In- camp. Prince Friederieh Kail was selves with simple diversions. They 

struck down with the disease, and his carved on many a wooden cross, piously 

death was announced many times, erected above the grave of fallen eom- 

Meautimc Sedan had become known to fades, the old German military legend : — 
all the world save to the besieged, and 

it was not lone before the sinister news "'" Salven '"''['"" '"' 

,1 , ., ,-. i- , , /hs Kuhle grab hmei/i, 

got through the German hues, and de- „ ,.-,,,, 

Das ist Soldaten tnamer — 

tcriniued Bazaine upon his sinful policy. Wcilsieall zeit lustig sein. 

The French forts kept up an aston- 
ishingly brisk lire, slaughtering a few Some inscriptions had a rough humor 
men every day at an immense cost of in them, recounting the exploits of 
shot and shell, which justified the old heroes ill the same manner that an 
proverb that it takes a ton of iron to Indian chief might recite the number of 
kill a man. Ports Quelan, Queutin, his slain. But these of course were only 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



313 



temporary ; no trace of them can be 
found to-day. 

Here is the menu of a cook attached 
to the first company of the First Rhenish 
Jiiger Battalion : — ■ 

Menu 17th Septembeb to Octobek 1st. 
At sunrise: 

Coffee without milk. Ohassepot bullets in 
the earth-works. 

At noon : 
Dessert after dinner, — distant roaring of 
cannon from Fort Quentin. Grand concert, 

immediate neighborl 1 hot. Beginning of 

symphony serves ti> hasten meals and assist 
digestion. 

Evening : 
Black-bread for supper Spectacle, — burning 
villages smoking t<> all corners of the heavens, 
and St. Quentin's mins shying shot at the em- 
bankments until midnight. 

Dancing : 
Towards the enemy's works through wood 

and meadow until daylight, when the murder of 
patrol parties begins as usual. 

The camp literature was sometimes 
exceedingly good. There were seven 
German poets killed before Metz, and, 
in the battles which preceded the actual 
siege, a gentleman who had made a fine 
translation of Longfellow's" Hiawatha" 
fell to rise no more. A Sanscrit scholar 
sent home a report of tin action in which 
he was engaged written in .Sanscrit. 
In his regiment there were three others 
proficient in that tongue. Out of the 
German Unties of soldiery might any 
day have stepped one hundred accom- 
plished linguists, as out of the Massa- 
chusetts regiment during the Rebellion 
stepped at call a hundred men. each of 
whom could construct a locomotive. 

Some rather complaining Prussian 
pickets, one day having expressed dis- 



appointment because much-needed food 
had not come t<> hand, were taken by a 
number of their comrades to a neigh- 
boring village, where they were informed 
that provisions carried off from the 
French were stored. The greedy and 
half-starved fellows rushed into a room 
where they discovered nothing but huge 
piles of splinters of French shells. Of 
these they were coolly invited to partake; 
and thenceforward they complained no 
more. 

Within Metz they were not given to 
joking, but to serious endeavors to live. 
The locust armies were rapidly eating the 
citizens out of house and homo. On the 
13th of October, nearly ten days after 
Paris had done ;i similar thing, the com- 
mandant issued the following order con- 
cerning bread : — 

Fn>m Thursday, October Hi, only one kind 
of bread will he baked — made from corn. 
This bread costs nine sous tor two pounds. 
Every baker will receive from this day forward 
Hour enough to supply the district which he 
serves. The daily portion for every inhabitant 
of the city is established at four hundred 
grammes fur an adult, two hundred grammes 
for a. chihl, ami one hundred grammes fur in- 
fants under four. A baker can furnish bread 
only to those who have a paper fri an the mayor ; 
and no one can receive more than the regular 
portions. 

This arrangement met with universal 
favor so long as the corn lasted ; but corn 
began gradually to give out ; and when 
Bazaine capitulated, there was neither 
bread nor stilt to be found in his whole 
army nor in the town. Expedients for 
food were of the most astonishing nature. 
Men and women constantly came to the 
commandant with propositions lor the 
manufacture id' articles miraculous in 
their sustaining power, and by which the 
whole army and the honor of France 
could be saved. But the very materials 



3 1 I 



EUROPE IX STOini AND CALM. 



with which to make these substances German soldiers had many privations 
were lacking. The horses thai were to undergo which were unknown to the 
killed had been themselves so long with- French. The Lorraine peasantry were 
out proper food and attention that the filled with the bitterest hatred for their 
little flesh remaining upon their bones conquerors, and many a picket lost his 
afforded small nourishment. Early in life through the poisoning of the wells in 
October this horse-meat became the only his neighborhood. So musketeers were 
flesh available. The faces of the men posted at every well and brook from 
began to show their sufferings, and the Saiirbriicken to Metz, and all around the 
scurvy manifested itself here and there, besieged city : and whenever a peasant 
The Germans were even moved to tears was found near a well he was made t" 
by the exhibition of mingled pride and drink from it. to prove that he had not 
greed given by French prisoners occa- been poisoning it. Notices were also 
sionally brought into camp. Now it was posted announcing that if a peasant be- 
a slight but wiry chasseur, who could not longing to any village in the surrounding 
refrain from filling the pockets of his couutry was found to have attempted 
baggy trousers with bread and salt, that treachery against the troops, a number 
he might luxuriate in these, to him. mi- of the inhabitants of that village would 
wonted blessings; ami now a gigantic be shot. On one occasion the Mayor of 
cuirassier, who ate enough to have main- a little town was brought before a Ger- 
tained a squadron, but who proudly stated man officer, charged with having been 
the fart that then' was no hunger in seen to put something into a well. lb' 
Met/.. The French officers, who came was dragged to it and made to drink re- 
as paiiementaires to arrange some truce peatedly from it. .Ashe approached it, 
for purposes necessary to both sides, he staggered, and turned pale from excite- 
always proudly refused any invitations ment, not from guilt. In an instant 
to dinner. The great hospitals at Mil/, a hundred guns were levelled at his 
were overcrowded with sick and wounded, breast, and he would have been shot to 
and there was fear of pestilence in them, pieces had he not recovered himself and 
The Bridge of theDead, over the Moselle, been able to demonstrate that the well- 
had a new meaning in its name: so water was still pure. The peasants were 
many sorrowful processions had gone out in the habit of denying that they had 
over it day by day to bury their comrades grain or food of any kind when foraging 
in the liclds beyond. When the Em- parties visited them. After a. lime this 
peror Napoleon was leaving .Met/, he enraged the Prussians, who burned the 
shook his bead as the driver asked him houses of refractory farmers, and there- 
if he should go over the Bridge of the after everything was at their disposal. 

Dead, and told him to take the one next Great stores of "rain were sometimes 

below it. By the river-side stood a little found hidden in the most ingenious 

child as the Imperial cortege passed on its manner, and considerable sums of money 

runaway course, and the voice of that buried in the earth by owners who had 

child was th< ly one in the town which lied away were brought to light. Hut 

cried " Vive VEmpereur!" Hut the Em- these were never appropriated, the gen- 

peror touched his hat with the same die- eral orders of each day making it the 

nity that he would have shown in saluting duty of every soldier to report things 

an immense crowd. found at head-quarters. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



;<:)■> 



The burning of villages seems to have 
been very common; and yet no good 
reason could be assigned for it. Visiting 
Met/, just after the siege one often came 
upon blackened heaps of cinders running 
in two lone- parallel lines in beautiful 
fields bordered by poplars. These sin- 
ister relics denoted the site of some 
hamlet which had met with the rude 
fortune of war. 

The majority of the frontier villages 
were composed of low, one-story cottages, 
built on each side of a lime; street, 
There was but little variety in the archi- 
tecture, and the public buildings were 
few and dingy. In ordinary times the 
notable figures of these little commu- 
nities were the priest, the mayor, 
one of the gorgeous country police, a 
rich farmer or two, fat, churlish, and 
wearing huge blue blouses over their 
broad cloth coats and their capacious 
waistcoats. 

But on thi' avenues of these frontier 
towns, after the siege, there were no 
signs of country prosperity, nothing hut 
a few sentinels lazily strolling up and 
down, a spy being conveyed in a cart to 
the place cit' his trial, a lew women 
brooding over the loss of husband or 

home, or a squadron of cavalry riding 



through to inquire if anything could be 
had tn eat. 

One day, old General Changarnier, 
weak and trembling with his age and 
fatigues, went to see Prince Friederich 
Karl at I)oncourt. To this step — a 
most humiliating one — the condition of 
Bazaine and the Met/, army had driven 
him. Bazaine, generally reserved and 
frosty in his manner, hailed Changar- 
nier's proposition with much delight. 
Such humiliations were mere prelimina- 
ries. The commander of Metz was 
indeed full of gloomy forebodings, and 
since the declaration of the Republic had 
been confirmed he had not scrupled to 
say that the fortress was lost, lie had 
seen the declaration of the Emperor's 
fall received with acclamations by many 
of his own men. Desertions began; 
men stricken with fever, men whose 
scrawny limbs trembled under them, and 
who loathed the sight of (he unwholesome 
fond given them, went boldly into the 
enemy's camp and asked for protection 
and provisions in exchange for their 
liberty and their arms. The German 
prisoners brought' into Metz were accus- 
tomed to taunt the men with stories 
about the well-fed prisoners and de- 
serters in the German lines. 



3i(> 



BUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE. 



The Surrender of Metz. — The Suspicious Nature oi 
Imperialists. -The Affair of the Flags. — Tin 
many . 

GENERAL CHANGARNIEE found 
Friederieb Karl sullen, angry, and 
n<>t over-polite. To tell the truth, this 
warrior's temper had been spoiled by tin' 
fact thai lie had been compelled to stay, 
as it were on the outskirts of France, 
when he wished to have been flying 
through the country, terrifying a. new 
city every day, sleeping in the saddle, 
living on a crnst for a week, making 
forced marches, etc He adored hard- 
ships, but lie wished 1o confront them 
in the midst of stronger excitements than 
those of :i siege. 

So he had hut lew words of comfort 
for, aud asked many exactions from, 
Changarnier. The old general went, 
hack sick at heart, murmuring that the 
Prince had maltreated him, and said 110 

more, lie had given up the campaign. 

.lust outside the range of the shells 

from Port, Quentin stood the beautiful 

rlr'tlrini of Frascat i, deserted l>\ its owner 

at an early stage of the siege. The 
Pomeranians were posted there, and the 
wearv watchers in Met/ nightly heard 
them roar their northern soul:-. These 
same Pomeranians were the roilgh-aild- 
readv fellows who went post-haste across 
the country when their work was done 
at Met/, to plunge into the southern cam- 
paign. The chdteau, surrounded by one 
of the finest parks in France, had lone 
been the glory of the suburbs of Met/, 
and to-day is one of the m >st interesting 
of European castles, for there the great- 
est capitulation of modern times was 



Bazaine'* Negotiations. — Tin Envoy from the Fallen 
i Prisoners in Front of Metz, and in Camps in Ger- 



signed. There the man who had shown 
such astonishing indecision that he was 
suspected even by his fellow- 1 mperia lists, 

lone before his policy had become plain, 
of wishing to deliver his army into the 
hands of the I lermans, gave up his prison- 
ers, — sixty-seven regiments of infan 
try. and thirteen battalions of chasseurs, 
of which there were ten regiments of 
cuirassiers, one Guidon regiment, eleven 
of dragoons, two of lancers and three 
of hussars, six of chasseurs, three of 
Chasseurs d'Afrique, and six garrison 
squadrons, as well as one hundred and 
fifteen field batteries r.nd seventeen bat- 
teries of the famous mitrailleuse, which 
was, by the way. a complete failure in the 
held. The army of Bazaine had originally 
two hundred and twenty-one battalions, 
Lhe garrison of Met/, consisting of eigh- 
teen battalions, and one hundred and 
sixty-two squadrons, the guard of the 
Grenadier regiments, three cavalry regi- 
ments, a guard of the lancers, a guard of 
chasseurs and the Chasseurs d'Afrique, 
but some of these latter constituted the 
personal guard of the Emperor, and had 
left Mdz with him. They, with the Cent 
Gardes, were included in the Sedan capitu- 
lation. Bazaine had at firs! two hundred 
and ten thousand able men ; hut when the 
time of capitulation came he had thirty- 
six thousand sick and wounded on his 
hands. 

Right glad were the German troops 
when they heard that surrender was cer- 
tain, for they had had enough of ex tem- 



EUROPE IN SToUM AND CALM. 



317 



pore living. A soldier, writing a clay 
or two before Changarnier's attempt to 
treat with Prince Friederieh Karl, said. 
" We are seeing hard times, but exercis- 
ing and dress are attended to just as if 
we were in a garrison. My quarters are 
in a hay-loft, where I have provided for 
my comfort as best I can. For food 
we have biscuit and bacon only. My 
clothes-brush serves my company as lux >t. 
tooth, rifle, nail, and garment cleaner. 
Our handkerchief's are used as coffee- 
strainers, bandages, and neck-cloths al- 
ternately. Mantles serve as table-cloths, 
swords as beefsteak choppers, their hilts 
as coffee-mills and hard-tack breakers." 
The journals of the besieged town, 
printed on paper of all colors, — choco- 
late, gray, and brown, — had evidently 
given the inhabitants and the army but 
small hope. One and all spoke very dis- 
couraginglyof the condition of the French 
provinces. They also announced, on the 
25th of October, that the raw weather 
had caused the death of immense num- 
bers of horses, and that a great party 
among the inhabitants was German in 
demanding peace. "The only nourish- 
ment now in the town," sadly recorded 
one paper, " is salt meat and fresh 
water." 

Old General Changarnier only went 
out on his mission to the Germans after 
urgent solicitation on the part of his 
comrades, and not until Bazaine had 
been urged to attempt an escape with a 
part of his army in the direction of 
Gravelotte. " Eveu if you do not es- 
cape," urged the generals, " ami if we 
are made prisoners, we shall save the 
garrison and the fortress by giving them 
a. little more time." But Bazaine 
would not hear of this, and so old Gen- 
eral Changarnier went blindfolded to 
the Chateau Frascati. When lie came 
hack to Metz, after an interview of an 



hour and a half witli the Prussian com- 
mander, his aged frame trembled and 
tears streamed down his face lie said, 
"< Jentlemen, we must fall, but with honor. 
I hope that you ami your brave soldiers 
may never experience such anguish as I 
have felt." On his way back, after he 
was in the French lines, he saw some 
soldiers groping for potatoes in the 
fields, and stopped t,i tell them that the 

Germans were splendid antagonists, and 

that they must show their best qualities 
against such an enemy. 

So, on the L'Ttli October, Prince Fried- 
erich Karl came down to the Chateau 
Frascati to lie near at hand for a con- 
sultation. A French division-general 
represented Bazaine, and General Von 
Stiehle, the Prussian army. The articles 
were signed, after a severe struggle, about 
eleven o'clock at night. The King sent 
to request the French officers to retain 
their swoids. Food was at once sent, for- 
ward to the town, and the ( ierman soldiers 
heard much shouting, as of men begging 
and hustling about the provision carts. 
until early dawn. And so it came to 
pass, that in October Germany had as 
prisoners within her boundary one hun- 
dred and forty-eight French generals, 
six thousand officers, and three hundred 
and twenty-three thousand men of rank 
and tile ; while as yet France had taken 
but two thousand one hundred Germans 
as prisoners of war. 

So it happened that, in the dullest of 
weather, with death in their hearts, and 
with very little food in their stomachs, 
tlie Imperial Guards, which had marched 
out of Paris scarcely three months lie- 
fore to the sound of inspiring music, on 
the beginning of their triumphal march 
to Berlin, defiled through the great for- 
tress gate and past Prince Friedei ich Karl 
and his generals assembled. 

So it happened, that the dreary pro- 



318 EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 

cession began, one army, conquered, de- pcror, Napoleon the Great, stood before 

filing past another bul little larger than the grave of Frederick, at Potsdam; 

itself. in October, 1812, was the Battle of 

So it happened, that the marvellous Leipsic ; October, 1815, saw Napoleon 

German railway organization came once I. at St. Helena; October, 1830, saw 

more into play. All civil trains on the Louis Napoleon's attempt to proclaim 

Baden and Palatinate routes were sus- himself Emperor at Strasbourg; Octo- 

pended, and ten thousand Frenchmen, ber, 1840, saw him sentenced to impris- 

daily. were expressed into Germany, onment ; and October, 1871, brought 

with the same precision and skill with the capitulation of MHz. and the coro- 

which the Teutonic troops were sent upon nation of King William of Prussia as 

to the French frontier a little while pre- Emperor of United Germany and Con- 

vioiis. Tin' French marshals, Bazaine, qucror of Fiance at Versailles, ii was 

Canrobert, and Le Boeuf , were sent on to also in October, in that wild year 1552, 

Cassel, to tell the story to their captive that Henry II. senl his army to seize 

Emperor; and the German press of the upon Metz, Troyes, and Verdun, while 

dav recorded, with a grim satire, thai in Charles V. was troubled with religious 

the French marshals' train were twenty wars in Germany. Up came the fiery 

thousand pounds of luggage. Emperor with a tremendous army at his 

So it happened, that the Crown Prince back, when he heard that the French 
and Prince Friederich Karl got to be were in the Trois-Eveches ; and down 
marshals, and Von Moltke became a he set before Met/, and began his opera- 
count; that long trains of food, from tions with a formidable park <>f cavalry 
England, from Belgium, from the Rhine, for those days. But he went away in 
were hurried through the battle-stricken the winter of 1553, leaving his tents 
eountrv to relieve the starving people behind him, convinced that he could not 
in Metz; that the 1'omeranians took up overcome the valor of Francois de Guise ; 
their tremendous line of march to the and so great was his anger and humilia- 
sonth ; that a flaming farewell order was tion that lie cried out: •• I see, now, 

issued by the German coi auder to that Fortune is indeed a woman. She 

those veterans who did not go on farther favors tin 1 young and disdains the old." 

ini,, the campaign; that the peasants Bazaine, and all the members of the 

stole out from wood and down from Imperial Party, have insisted, ever since 

mountain to resume their work ; that the the trial of the unlucky Marshal in 

ploughshares now and then probed a 1873, that- he was the victim of circum- 

orave so new that it was horrible; that stances; that the French, horror-stricken 

the dull battle steneh for miles around and humiliated by the crushing stales of 

gradually went away; ami that by night defeats which hail come upon them, felt 

the fields echoed no longer to the scream- il npcessary to assert that they ware be- 

inor of shells ami the rattle of musketry trayed, and hurled all the fury of their 

fire, but to cheery German soldier accusation upon the soldier who was in 

sw.ies. command of the head-quarters-gcneral 

Many wonderful military events in the of the army. French pride was indeed 

history of France and Prussia, have oc- more bitterly hurt by the surrender of 

eurred in this same sinister October. Mel/, than by any other event of the 

in lsa'i. in October, the victorious Em- war. That the town around which so 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM 319 

many glorious remembrauces clustered, because it thus gave to France the time 

and which had been associated with so to organize resistance, and to the armies 

many striking events in French history, in course of formation time to be brought 

could have been handed over without a together. 

final valorous effort for its relief seems That he was unpatriotic and partisan 
incomprehensible, unless its commander seems clearly proven. Ou the 23d of 
were influenced by unworthy motives. September, a. Prussian parlementaire 
It seems clear — reviewing with the presented himself at the French picket 
utmost impartiality the course of Marshal line, bearing a letter from Friederich 
Bazaine from the 12th of August, 1870, Karl for Marshal Bazaine. A little 
the day on which he took into his hands behind him was a man on foot, with a 
the chief command of the army of the white pocket-handerchief tied to the end 
Rhine, up to the evening of the i'7th of a stick. The Prussian parlementaire 
of October, when the capitulation was delivered his letter, and was about to 
signed — that Bazaine did not do his ride away, when the French officer who 
duty. Whether it was because he had come out to meet him said, ••Who is 
desired for a consideration to betray the this man with you?" — -'He is not with 
immense army under his leadership to me, and I do not know him," replied the 
the Germans, or hoped that the forces Prussian officer, galloping off. Theindi- 
of the broken French Empire might rally, vidua] then declared that he had a, mis- 
and that he might, by some clever com- sion for Marshal Bazaine, and wished 
bination, contribute to the weakness of to speak with him at once. So he was 
the Republic, and help to restore the brought into the lines. When he reached 
Imperial throne, the world will probably the town the French officer who was con- 
never know. His conduct, whatever ducting him asked him whom he should 
might have been its motive, was pitia- announce to the .Marshal. " Yon may 
ble. lie might, by joining forces with say that it is an envoy from Hastings," 
MacMahon in the closing' days of was the answer. It was at Hastings 
August, have prevented the disaster of that the Empress Eugenie had taken 
Sedan ; and, in response to the pressing refuge after her (light, from Paris. 
despatches which were sent him, urging Marsha] Bazaine at once received this 
him to be ready to affect the junction, person, whose name was Regnier, into 
he responded only by puerile excuses, his private office; and there, according 
At one time he said that he could not to testimony furnished at the trial of 
move because of lacking ammunition ; Bazaine. Regnier declared that he had 
and, on that very day, in curious illus- come to propose either to Marshal Can- 
tration of the absolute disorganization robert or to General Bourbaki to go to 
of the army, four millions of cartridges, England to place themselves at the dis- 
the very existence of which in the ar- position of the Regent, as the Empress 
senal had been ignored up to that time was then called. But the testimony 
by the genera] commanding the place, clearly establishes that Regnier appeared 
were discovered. To all the appeals for to have brought to Marshal Bazaine a 
the powerful aid which his well-disci- proposition that he should si'4U a treaty 
plined and vigorous army could have permitting the army of Mctz to retire 
given, his only answer was, that the army into a neutral zone, and thai he should 
ought to remain under the walls of Mctz, be allowed to have tin- fortress with 



320 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM 

military honors on condition of no to communicate with the fallen Era- 

furthei" resistance t< > the ( Germans during press. 

the course of the war. Bazaine, ii is All thiis was certainly enough to make 

true, resolutely declared at liis trial, thai Republican France believe that the com- 

neither he nor any of his comrades would mander-in-chief of the Army of the 

have consented to any conditions such Rhine, who ought to have fought his 

as those which would have divided the way out of Metz two mouths before, 

National Defense. Regnier, who was was nothing less than a traitor. When 

called as a witness in the trial, took care General Changarnier was sent to treat 

In keep out of the way. It is variously with Prince Friedcrich Karl, he was 

supposed that he was an agent of Yon charged by Bazaine to demand the neu- 

Bismarck, en- that he was a real envoy tralization of the Army of the Rhine, 

from the Emperialist Party, whose aims and the territory that it occupied, and 

were furthered by Bismarck, because that an armistice, during which an appeal 

wily diplomat saw thai it' Bazaine were was to be made to the deputies and to 

allowed to believe himself the arbiter the constituted powers, under virtue of 

of the defense of France he could be the constitution of May, 1870, for a 

dupe, | in any manner desirable. Regn- treaty of peace between the two antago- 

ier certainly made a definite offer to nists. There is also a fine flavor of 

Canroberl and to Bourbaki to go to the Imperialism in the phrase in which 

Empress, and Bourbaki accepted and Bazaine asks that lie lie allowed to fulfil 

went. On the 10th of October Bazaine. a mission of order, meaning, of course, 
instead of cutting his way out of Metz that the obliging enemy should let him 
and going to help the regularly consti- pass through ils lines and go to put 
tuted governmenl of his country in its down the new Republic in Paris. 
resistance to invasion, sent General The affair of the flags at, the time 
Boyer to Versailles, where that general of the surrender of Metz put the finish- 
entered into a long series of interviews ing touch to Bazaine's disastrous career. 
with Count Von Bismarck relative to the The Republicans stoutly claim that, had 
surrender of Metz. All that General it not been for his stupid hesitation, and 
Boyer got out of Bismarck was that the for the multiplicity of his orders and 
conditions imposed for the raising of the counter-orders, all the flags of the gar- 
si"ue were that the fidelity of the army rison would have been burned, and the 
of the Rhine to the Empress Eugenie French nation would have been spared 
should he fully affirmed, that a mani- the shame of knowing that hundreds 
fetation of this fidelity should be pub- of its banners are exhibited in Berlin. 
licly made in Metz on the part of the As it was, many a valiant general and 
army, and that eveu the signature of colonel, with that reckless defiance of 
the Empress to the preliminaries of a military discipline which came with a 
treaty of peace should be obtained, disgust for Bazaine's course, burned the 
General Boyer returned to Metz with flags of their commands, or broke them 
these conditions, laid them before a a. id trampled them into the earth, and 
council, in which Bazaine. General sent word to the commander of the place 
Ladmirault, Marshal Le Boeuf, and to say that they had done so. Shortly 
many other important officers, took after the capitulation of Metz a gentle- 
part, and then went over to England man resident in Germany wrote me as 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



321 



follows: •• Were it not for tin' presence 
of so many prisoners and the wounded. 
Germany would have some difficulty in 
realizing that she is now carrying on a 
tremendous war hundreds of miles away 
in the centre of a formidable enemy's 
country; for our streets are as thronged 
as ever, business is about in its normal 
condition, and the high schools and uni- 
versities are filled up with youth, despite 
the many scholars, doctors, and profess- 
ors now on the battle-fields. A visit to 
the unbidden French guests and their 
encampments in the various cities tells 
us what the Germans are doing in France 
and have done. They sent in l,000pris- 
ouers from Weisseuburg ; 0,000 from 
Woerth ; 2,. 500 from Spicheren ; 1 ,:J77 
from Saargemund and Haguenau ; ".'(id 
f rom Vionville ; 3,000 from Gravelotte; 
8,050 from Vitry ; 2,800 from Beau- 
mont; 84,450 from Sedan; 2,280 from 
Toul; 1."., DUO from Strasbourg ; 5,000 
from before Paris, and 173,000 from 
Metz. Altogether this makes a grand 
total of about 330,000 men, including 
10,000 officers and 4 marshals. 

" Three hundred and thirty thousand I 
This is nearly the whole of the grand 
army of the Rhine, with which Napoleon 
set out to conquer Germany and take 
possession of the Rhine provinces, and 
lo sign the treaty of peace in Kcanigs- 
burg or Berlin. It is not difficult to ex- 
plain why Germany made this immense 
number of prisoners. First, the Ger- 
mans themselves had special inducements 
to capture them alive, especially poor 
Turco, who had many a prize set upon 
his black head. Something in the fol- 
lowing style of telegram was received 
by Count Bismarck : ' One thousand 
good cigars for the first German soldiers 
who capture the first live Turco.' But 
the hearts of the French do not seem to 
have been in their work. A French 



writer indeed cries out that these are not 
the soldiers of France, not the succes- 
sors of the men who followed Napoleon 
the Great, who never allowed themselves 
to be taken prisoners by wholesale, as do 
the present generation. This is true 

enough; but the soldiers of the old Na- 
poleon, beaten as they were at last, had 
always something to fight for, and 
leaders whom they could always trust; 
while in 1870, from Weisseuburg to 
Sedan, the campaign on the French side 
was a mass of confusion, imbecility, and 
unskilfnlness of the leaders, and light- 
ing of the men without purpose to tic 
achieved. Napoleon himself complains 
that his generals would not obey his 
commands; while the prisoners here con- 
stantly repeat the reproach: -We have 
been sold; we have been sold.' 

" I have visited a number of the 
French camps in Germany, and arrive 
at the conclusion that these very prison- 
ers will be a great help to Germany 
when they return to their native land. 
The French soldiers started for the 
Rhine, expecting to find, as the most 
ignorant had been told, a people some- 
thing akin to the Cossacks of the Don, 
or, as a French school-book informs the 
youthful mind, savages upon the sand 
plains of Hanover. Pomerania was to 
them a wilderness. They knew nothing 
whatever of Germanv except Prussia ; 
but they will return home with vastly dif- 
erent opinions of Germany and the Ger- 
mans, for they have been treated with a 
kindness as surprising as it was gener- 
ous. The first batch of one thousand 
coming in from Weissenburg was re- 
ceived with silence by vast crowds, and 
was the recipient of favors which even 
the German soldiers did not obtain. 
The greatest good feeling has been pro- 
duced between citizens and prisoners ; 
for, although excursion trains are run 



322 



EVROrE IN STORM AND CALM. 



every Sunday to the French camp, the 
people who go only go to do good offices, 
and not merely to stare. The German 
Indies have been somewhat censured for 
the great desire they manifest to 
give their French an airing. The op- 
portunity to speak French with a native 
does not come every day, and the fair 
beings may therefore be excused. Es- 
pecially among the wounded, where the 
French and Germans occupied the same 
rooms, the latter have at times a cause 
of complaint that German ladies should 
have preferred to notice the French. In 
a Saxon hospital two good fellows de- 
termined, not long ago, to take advantage 
of this curiosity on the part of their iady 
visitors, and as one of their number 
could speak French like a Frenchman, 
they dressed him up as a prisoner, and 
every one desiring to see the French 
wounded was at once referred to him. 
One lady was so charmed by his story 
and his language that she not only took 
his address, but made him a present of 
some money. No sooner had she disap- 
peared than loud laughter burst forth. 
The supposed Frenchman rose a stout 
Saxon, and the money thus won was dis- 
tributed anions the comrades." 



This good-natured letter, in which the 
German feeling is fairly represented, 
unfortunately does not convey the entire 
truth. There was great suffering, moral 
and physical, among the thousands of 
prisoners, especially after the cold 
weather set in. and many accounts pub- 
lished shortly after the return of the 
prisoners indicate that, while the treat- 
ment by the civilians was uniformly kind 
and reasonably courteous, the military 
authorities were harsh and sometimes 
vindictive. The tent encampments, out- 
side fortresses like Magdeburg, Cob- 
lentz, Mainz. Stettin, Glogau, Erfurt, 
Eosen, and Wesel, each containing from 
live to ten thousand prisoners, were the 
scene of much misery, and sometimes of 
the most tragic- deaths. High-spirited 
men. like General Ducrot and others, 
would not stand the long-inflicted hu- 
miliation, and boldly made their es- 
cape. Ducrot was bitterly accused by 
the Germans of having violated his 
word of honor in thus escaping; 
but he has sufficiently defended him- 
self against this charge in his able 
work on the early part of the cam- 
paign. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



323 



CHATTER THIRTY-FOUR. 



The Desperate Battles at Le Bourget. — Remarkable Valor of the French. — EpKodesof the Defense. 

The Charge of the Marines. — Thiers anil Bismarck. — The Insurrection of the 31st of October. — 
Brilliant Conduct of Juleg Ferry. 



THE Parisians, despite their numen >us 
disasters, had lost none of their 
traditional gayety of speech, and were 
able to say, when they heard that Gen- 
eral Aurelles de Paladines had had his 
army cut in two, — -"That will make two 
armies instead of one, and makes us 
just so much the stronger." But light 
and pleasant sayings do not always go 
with light hearts, and after the terrible 
affair of Le Bourget the resistance of 
Paris lost its hopeful character. M. 
Jules Favre says that it precipitated the 
insurrection of the 01st of October. 

The village of Le Bourget was :t very 
important situation for an army invest- 
ing Paris ; and the Prussians had seized 
it and held it until the 28th of October, 
at which tune the Francs-Tireurs of the 
press made a descent upon it, and, sur- 
prising the Prussians in their sleep, took 
possession, making many prisoners and 
killing large numbers of the enemy. 
It was not at all to the taste of the 
Germans to see the batteries which they 
had established at Pont Iblon and ad- 
jacent places seriously menaced ; so, at 
ten o'clock on the morning of the French 
occupation, the Germans who had es- 
caped came back strongly reinforced, 
and made a tremendous attack. The 
. Francs-Tireurs had their feeble forces 
strengthened by a few companies of 
Mobiles, and they made a defense of the 
position which they had so recently 
taken which may deservedly rank with 
that of Chateaudun. The little baud of 



Frenchmen was subjected to a terrible 

artillery Are for more than live hours. 
Neatly every house in Le Bourget was 
riddled with shell; but the troops held 
Arm, and at nightfall the enemy had to 
retire. There were (wo severe attacks 
made there the same evening, — one of 
them by the grenadiers of the Prussian 
Guard; but this was repulsed, and, 
meantime a battalion of Mobiles, under 
the command of a valiant young officer 
named Baroche, arrived from St. Denis. 
All night the contending forces worked 
at strengthening their positions, and at, 
dawn the battle began anew with great 
fury. 

Le Bourget suffered a second bom- 
bardment, more than forty cannon 
throwing shells for nine hours into the 
now half-wrecked houses, in which three 
thousand men were intrepidly defending 
themselves. It is said that on this day 
the Prussians threw two thousand shells 
into this one long street of Le Bourget. 
The Prussians were hindered from mak- 
ing an overpowering night attack by the 
electric light, thrown from the forts, 
which lit up the fields for miles around, 
and prevented the massing of troops at 
the proper points. 

On Sunday, the 30th of October, the 
Germans, about fifteen thousand strong, 
wit!' forty-eight cannon, made a final at- 
tack. Fifteen batteries threw converg- 
ing fire upon the town; and, in less than 
half an hour after the attack on Sunday 
morning, the sixteen hundred French- 



324 EUROrE IN STORM AND CALM. 

men who remained of the brave defend- rounded by a hundred of the bravest of 

ers of Le Bourget had had thrown at the soldiers. On the right, the com- 

tliciu fifteen hundred shells. The two mandanl Baroche, who had with him 

French otficers Brasseur and Baroche about sixty men. determined to die 

appear to have conducted themselves like rather than surrender, and whin he was 

veritable heroes. The fight on Sunday struck down by a shell lie begged his 

seemed to have awakened the pride of soldiei's, with his dying breath, to hold out 

the Germans, who fancied that they had half an hour. •• because," he said, "help 

in front of them a large French force; was certain to arrive in that time." 
and the Queen Elizabeth regiment of the The officer Brasseur, when the barri- 

Prussian Guard came up at hall-past cade which he had been defending was 

eight in the morning, with its band carried hy a charge of several hundred 

playing, and its flags flying, to carry the of the enemy, shut himself, with seven 

first barricade at the entrance of the vil- other officers and about twenty soldiers, 

lage. The troops ran forward with their into the church, and kept up a vigorous 

usual •■ Hurrah!" but they were met by a lire from the windows until his little band 

strong fusillade, so deadly, that, accord- was literally crushed. When he was 

in<> to the testimony of the Germans driven into a corner, and forced to give 

themselves, nothing had been seen like up his sword, he wept like a child. The 

it in the war. Prussian officer who took the weapon was 

" As the Second battalion of the regi- deeply affected, and could not refrain 
incut came up." says a German writer, from strongly complimenting him on his 
•• one of the color-sergeants was shot personal courage. The Prince of Wur- 
down. A young officer ran forward, temburg the next day sent back the 
sei/eil the flag, which was falling to the sword with his personal compliments, 
ground, and, as he raised it up. also fell That the Prince was deeply impressed by 
mortally wounded. A general then dis- this heroic defense is shown by his proc- 
mounted from his horse, seized the tlag, lamation, issued from the head-quarters 
and. holding it high above his head. at Gouesse, on the 30th, in which he 
rushed forward in frontof his grenadiers. speaks of Le Bourget having been de- 
Two colonels of the regiments engaged fended by the best troops in the Paris 
in the charge were killed in the front garrison against the Second division of 
rank of their troops. The' general, the Infantry corps, with certain special 
however, who had seized the flag, seemed troops which had been joined to it. 
to bear a charmed life." The hardy This fight cost the Germans a large 
German pioneers, with their axes ami number of their best officers and more 
crowbars, worked away at a breach ; than three thousand soldiers. What 
and in a short time the little French might not such troops as the defenders 
hand found itself taken between two of Le Bourget have done had they been 
liies. Tin' town was not given up properly commanded, anil had the geu- 
until, out of the sixteen hundred men. ends inside Paris known how to utilize. 
twelve hundred combatants were taken the three hundred or three hundred and 
prisoners, slain, or wounded. fifty thousand men who remained useless 

Near the church in the interior of the inside the ramparts the greater portion 

village the officer Brasseur. already of the period of tin; siege? 
mentioned, held out to the Last, siir- There was another and almost as sau- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



325 



guinary encounter between the besiegers 
and the beseiged at this same Le 
Bourgct towards the close of December, 
in which occurred the celebrated charge 
by a battalion of marines supported by 
a detachment of troops of the French 
line under the orders of a noted naval 
captain. This charge of the marines, 
with their revolvers and hatchets in 
hand, upon the German troops who had 
taken up position in the cemetery of 
Le Bourget, has become legendary in 
France, and has been chosen by many of 
the military painters as a fitting subject 
for the illustration of the French valor 
which proved of so little avail. 

This second attack was crowned with 
only partial success; and the marines, 
who had at first been so successful, were 
badly cut to pieces before they came out 
of the affair. This battle at Le Bourget 
was part of a general scheme for an 
attack upon , Montretout, Buzenval, and 
other important positions, where, how- 
ever, the German line proved always too 
strong to be broken through. 

While these heroic efforts for the de- 
liverance of Paris were in progress, during 
the last days of October, the venerable 
M. Thiers had been doing some vigor- 
ous work in behalf of unhappy France, 
and comforting the Government of Na- 
tional Defense with the assurance (hat 
the four great neutral powers, England, 
Russia, Austria, and Italy, were willing 
to propose to the belligerents an armis- 
tice, with a view to the convocation of a 
French national assembly ; also, that this 
armistice would have for its conditions 
the revictnalling of Paris and the un- 
trammelled election of the country's rep- 
resentatives. M. Thiers was full of 
energy and hope. He sacrificed himself 
to the interests of the moment, pocket- 
ing his pride, and was willing to go 
hither and yon to meet Bismarck or any 



one else if he could do his country ser- 
vice. The news of the capitulation of 
Metz almost crushed the little man for 
the time being; luit he concealed his 
anxiety. 

On his return from Tours, where he 
had been aiding Gambettain (he organi- 
zation of the defense ill the south, he 
was obliged to pass through Versailles, 
and to make a call upon Count Bismarck, 
to whose desire to appear in the eyes of 
Europe perfectly fair he owed his safe 
conduct through the Prussian lines. Few 
interviews between celebrated men have 
ever been stranger than this one be- 
tween the ambitious Prussian Chancellor 
and the accomplished French statesman, 
under these trying circumstances, which 
required all their self-control and 
politeness. When Bismarck received 

Thiers lie at -e said, •- I know thill 

we have no right to talk business, and I 
shall scrupulously refrain from any 
mention of it." The two gentlemen, 
therefore, entered upon a general con- 
versation, which was brief, and which 
must have exhausted all their artifices. 
M. Thiers was escorted to the Bridge of 
Sevres, and was allowed free passage to 
the lines of his friends. 

That the formidable insurrection of 
the .'list of October was nipped ill tin' 

bud was due largely to the energetic 
conduct of one man, who has since 
become very prominent in French affairs, 
— M. Jules Ferry. When the Hotel de 
Ville was invaded by the immense crowds 
who were disloyal to the Government of 
National Defense, M. Ferry was the 
first to assume an attitude of bold resist- 
ance, and he maintained it until all the 
troubles were over. The insurrection 
began as insurrections in Paris have 
begun since time immemorial, — by the 
invasion of the hall in which the regu- 
larly constituted authorities were dclib- 



326 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

erating. M. Jules Favre has given us Jules Simon was violently maltreated by 
a striking picture of this invasion of the the Communists. Delescluze, destined 
Council Room, where he was seated with afterwards todie upon a barricade in the 
General Trochu, M. Garnier Pages, M. Commune, openly expressed his contempt 
Jules Simon, and Ernest Picard. The and disdain fur Jules Favre. The volun- 
iieiv Flourens and Milliere, afterwards teers of the National Guards from Belie- 
so conspicuous in the Commune, were at ville, infuriated with drink and with their 
the head of the National Guards, the ephemeral victory, repeatedly hinted at 
grim workmen, the volunteers in all the massacre of their prisoners. Flou- 
kinds of fantastic uniforms, who rushed reus was, from time to time, obliged to 
into the room uttering savage cries, ami appeal to his followers not to give the 
who would have been willing to stain world the spectacle of a fratricidal en- 
their hands in the blood of the men who counter. " Let us avoid the shedding 
had been doing their best to serve them, of blood," he said ; "hut let us carry our 
Flourens considered the insurrection as point." 

successful, and harangued the citizens. Jules Favre was twice in imminent 
saying that they had overturned the danger of death. A dozen muskets were 
government which had betrayed them, levelled at his head. " It was," he says, 
Heat once nominated himself, Milliere, " a solemn but imposing moment, and I 
Delescluze, Rochefort, Blanqui, and still ask myself how it was that no one 
others, instead of those whom he pre- of these men, most of whom were coin- 
tended to overthrow : and his followers pletely intoxicated, did not press the trig- 
sanctioned by sllOUtS whatever he said. ger of his gun." 

"During this burlesque scene." says The government was liberated from 

Jules Favre, " we did not budge from its disagreeable and rather humiliating 

our seats. Genera] Trochu took off his position the same night by the energetic 

epaulettes, and passed them to one of action of a little body of National Guards, 

his officers who was near him; "and he friendly to the national cause. The 

told M. Favre afterwards, that lie had leaders of the insurrection retired once 

done this so as to put the insignia of his more into the shade, muttering veu- 

rnilitary authority beyond the reach of geance dire upon those who had dared 

an affront. lie quietly lit a cigarette, to interfere with them. Jules Ferry had 

and waited the movements of the rioters, been at the head of the column which 

The story is too long to give in detail forced the gates of the Hotel de Ville, and 

here. Enough to say that the ( lovernment finally compelled the rioters to retire. For 

of National Defense narrowly escaped a few minutes it looked as if he would 

complete annihilation on this unfortunate pay with his life for his audacity; but 

dav. The Commune was already starting his personal magnetism was so strong 

from its concealment, and was admir- and his language was so energetic that 

ably organized with a view to replacing they dared not harm him, and he carried 

instantly, and with as little collision as his point against them. In January of 

possible, the government which alone had 1871 he was a prominent figure in the 

the right to call itself national. The second resistance against a body of 

members of the Committee of National insurgents, who came after the disastrous 

Defense were prisoners in the hands of fight at Montretout to attack the Hotel 

these insurrectionists for Several hours. de Ville. 



EUROPE IX STORM AM) CALM. 



327 



November came in gloomy and full of 
menaces of war. The little band of 
members of the Government of National 
Defense found that the attempt upon its 
authority had strengthened its hold upon 
the, affections of all truly patriotic citi- 
zens, and, appealing to the population 
for support, it received a vote of confi- 
dence which was highly gratifying. For 
the time being the government contented 
itself with removing from their military 
positions Flourens and all the others 
who had held important places in the 
insurrection; and about this time Roche- 
fort, who was gradually becoming iden- 
tified with the Radical Party and with 
the cause of the Communists, which he 
afterwards vainly disavowed, resigned 
his position as a member of the govern- 
ment. M. Thiers had not been able to 
give his advice to the governing powers 
during the difficult days through which 
they had just passed, for he had re- 
turned at once to Versailles, anxious to 
conclude an armistice. This time he 
was enabled to talk business with Count 
Von Bismarck ; and he has left on record 
a singularly bright and sparkling account 
of the manner in which he urged his 
claims, and the claims of his beloved 
capital, upon the accomplished represent- 
ative of the conquering party. He re- 
mained three or four days at Versailles, 
meeting the Chancellor very frequently, 
and fancied that he was about to carry 
his point, when, on the evening of the 3d 
of November, he asked Count Von Bis- 
marck what guarantees he was likely to 
ask during the suspension of hostilities. 
Bismarck made the same answer that he 
had made to Jules Favre at Ferrieres, 
that he should require a military position 
in front of Paris. "One fort," he added ; 
" perhaps more than one." 

" I immediately interrupted the Chan- 
cellor," says M. Thiers. " You are 



asking for Paris," I said to him; "you 
refuse to revictual the capital during the 
armistice, thus taking a month of our 
resistance away from us. To exact 
from us one or more of our forts is 
nothing less than demanding our ram- 
parts. You want us, in short, to give 
you the means of starving us out or 
bombarding us. In treating with us for 
an armistice you could hardly suppose 
that the capital condition would lie to 
abandon Paris to you, — Paris, which 
is our supreme force, our great hope, 
and for you so great a difficulty that 
after fifty days of siege you have not yet 
taken it." 

" When we got to this point," says 
M. Thiers, "we could go no further. 
Whereupon Count Von Bismarck de- 
clared that if the French government 
wished to hold elections without an ar- 
mistice, he would offer no hindrance to 
a free election of representatives in all 

the sections occupied by the Prussian 
armies, and would facilitate communica- 
tion between Paris and Tours for every- 
thing except military despatches." 

There is little doubt that after this 
stern refusal on the part of the Germans 
to interrupt the course of the war M. 
Thiers gave up all hope of a successful 
resistance. He had done his duty, 
and accomplished what no other man 
in France could have done. He had 
pleaded the cause of Paris at the courts 
of England, Russia. Austria, and Italy, 
making light, even at his advanced age, 
of the great physical and intellectual 
Strain to which he was subjected during 
journeys doubly wearisome because of 
the suspense concerning affairs at home 
which hung perpetually about his heart. 
He, more clearly than any one else, saw- 
that tile war was to be to its very close a 
fatal one for France ; but, gallantly keep- 
ing his doubts and despairs to himself, he 



328 



EUROPE TN STORM AND CALM. 



returned from Versailles t<> Tours, and 
placed himself at the disposal of the 
delegates there. 

It was no light work which Gambetta 
had undertaken in the South. When he 
arrived :it Tours half the important 
fortresses in the country had capitulated, 
and the others — Paris, Phalsbourg, Me- 
zieres, Thionville, Bitche, Montmedy, 
and Verdun — were surrounded by lines 
of iron and steel, and their condition 
was almost hopeless. Gambetta seemed 
to bring men and muskets and cannon 
out of the very earth. With his powerful 
and seductive eloquence he won the 
hearts of the enthusiastic southern popu- 
lations, lie created a commission of 
armament, which, in three months, de- 
livered into the hands of men who un- 
fortunately did not know how to use 
them, one million two hundred thousand 
s;uns. From Nantes, from St. Etienne, 



from Creuzot, he brought cannon; at 
Angouleme millions of cartridges were 
made. He even thought at one time of 
sending cartridges into Paris by balloon. 
With all these interests of the nation in 
his hands, and being himself virtually 
dictator of all France outside of Paris 
for months, his fidelity to his trust was 
so complete and perfect that, when later 
in his political career the slanderous 
accusation was brought against him 
of having profited by the manufacture 
of arms for the country's defenders, 
the whole French nation, with the ex- 
ception of his l'ew slanderers, rose in 
revolt against such an injury ; and he 
proved beyond the shadow of doubt 
that not only had he not received the 
millions falsely attributed to him, but 
that he had not profited by as much as a 
single SOU in any of his public labors in 
his country's behalf. 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CADI. 



329 



CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE. 

Life at Head-quarters. — The Parades on the Place d'Armcs. — Von Moltke in Versailles. — King Will- 
iam's Daily Labors. — Bismarck's Habits. — The General Staff, — The lintel des Reservoirs. — A 
Journey around Besieged Paris. — The Story of Moot Valerien. — Maisons Laffittc in War Time. 
— Getting Under Fire. — The French and German Pickets. — In the Foremost [nvestment Lines. — 
Montmorency. — The Fight near Enghien. — Saint Graticn. -The Day Before t lhampigny. 



THE Germans act as though they had 
come to stay here forever," said a 
nervous French friend of mine, in a comic 
mood, as we walked through the splendid 
courtyard of the ureal palace of Ver- 
sailles one morning late in November, 
when the contesting parties just outside 
the historic town were in their sternest 
mood, and when the Germans were 
bringing up their '•final arguments,'" — 
hundreds of cannon, which had been 
packed in neighboring villages, waiting 
what the Chancellor, with his brutal satire, 
called •• the psychological moment." 

Indeed, the royal head-quarters was 
lint little disturbed by the battles near by 
save on one or two occasions, when vic- 
tories seemed at last to alight upon the 
French standards, at the time of the 
great sortie which culminated in the 
sanguinary encounter at Champigny. 
French Versailles had taken on tin' sul- 
len aspect of a conquered place, where 
politeness was only accorded because it 
was bred in the flesh, and commerce 
fostered because the invader insisted 
upon it. But there was a German Ver- 
sailles, life in which went on regularly, 
cheerfully, and in rather picturesque 
fashion. 

The first event of the day was invari- 
ably a military parade upon the Place 
d'Armes, and this was conducted with 
as much care and precision as if it had 
beeu iu some garrison town in the inte- 



rior of Germany. The regiments pa- 
raded were those freshly arrived in the 
campaign. The inspection was merci- 
less, fault-finding was frequent, punish- 
ment severe. After the parade came 
concerts by the splendid bands of the 
crack regiments, and around these bands, 
in the great avenues, gathered hundreds 
of elegantly uniformed officers, soldiers 
of all arms of the service; but rarely 
ilid a French gentleman or lady pause to 
listen to the music or to gaze upon the 
enemy. 

By the time the concerts were over, 
dusk had drawn its curtains round the 
town, and all the shops closed ; the cafes 
remained open, but hotels barred their 
doors at nine o'clock, when the patrols 
began to move through the streets. The 
great chdteau, with its noble entrance- 
way guarded by the sculptured figures of 
the military heroes of France, was vis- 
ited daily by hundreds of soldiers on 
leave, and by the motley army fol- 
lowers, huge wagoners and serving-men, 
all of them anxious to increase their 
stock of knowledge of French history. 
Now and then the King drove to the 
palace to see the wounded soldiers placed 
iu the airiest and tightest of the halls. 
The superb park, with all its appurte- 
nances of Trianon, chalet, and foun- 
tains, was deserted save at early morn- 
ing, when troops of horsemen clattered 
through the long alleys, or save when at 



330 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



dawn a silent procession of soldiers, es- 
corting one of their comrades sentenced 
to execution, went Otll to a sinister hol- 
low behind a hedge, where they pro- 
ceeded to take the life which the com- 
rade had forfeited. 

Yon Moltkc sometimes promenaded in 
the park at seven in the morning, stern 
and passionless, with his arms hanging 
motionless at his sides, and, although in 
primly arranged uniform, and with his 
sword clattering at his side, he looked 
more like a schoolmaster or a country 
clergyman than like a great general. 
The Versaillais soon learned his habits, 
and now and then, actuated by some 
unaccountable impulse, — perhaps admi- 
ration for his very sternness and modesty, 
— they saluted him as he passed ! He 
was never attended by an escort of any 
kind. When the bands were playing 
in the avenue of St. Cloud, he often 
walked slowly through the throngs of 
officers, raising his hand to his cap 
abstractedly when he was saluted. 
There was nothing to be read in his 

face. It testified neither to joy or fear, 

to anxiety or to deep thought. He 
never seemed to see any one : his gaze 
was introspective, and his walk' plan- 
tigrade, like that of one ascending a 
steep hill. 

The plainness with which most of the 
Prussian royal personages dressed during 
the campaign divested them of the bril- 
liant halo usual'.' surrounding persons 
of rank. The King appeared quite as 
simple as one of the soldiers of his 
household, if he happened to be placed 
beside him. Red and black were the 
predominating colors. There were few 
regiments in which a dozen different 
lines wei'e so mingled as to produce 
the dazzling sheen which makes some 
armies so attractive. 

The Crown Prince, mounted on a tine 



horse, with one groom behind him, rode 
through the town almost every morning, 
as simply dressed as any of his officers. 
The distinctions between prince and 
commander were so slight that a careless 
observer would not have noticed them. 
King William was rarely accompanied in 
his public promenades, in carriages, or 
on horseback, by any one save servants 
at a respectful distance. He had an 

immense round of daily labor, difficult 
to support, considering his advanced 
age. Tin' royal courier left the Pre- 
fecture of Versailles, where the King re- 
sided, every day tor Berlin, with special 
despatches, letters, etc., and the royal 
mail left Lagny every morning at five 
o'clock. The King may be saiil to have 
passed his time in writing and dictating 
letters for those mails, interspersing Ids 
toil with brief outings in the town and 
an occasional dash over into the invest- 
ment lines to see how a battle was going. 
The Crown Prince rested in a measure 
from bis labors at Versailles, although 
scarcely a day passed that he was not 
called upon to give judgment upon some 
important crisis in the campaign : but 

even he was Subject to tile orders of 

Von Moltke. 

Count Von Bismarck kept himself 
very close for a long time after his ar- 
rival at Versailles, and numerous tales 

were told of his eccentric habits, liOW 
he did but little work by day, but, lying- 
in his bed at night, surrounded with 
candles stuck in the necks of empty 
champagne bottles, wrote, dictated, and 
planned, smoking furiously, and drinking 
extraordinary mixtures of champagne 
and beer. " When he has finished a, 
bottle of champagne," said one inform- 
ant, who communicated the statement 
to me as if it were of the greatest im- 
portance, " he lights a fresh candle, and 
sticks it in the bottle ; and so when 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



oil 
.1.) L 



morning comes he is Biirrounded with 
lights, as if he were illuminating in his 
own honor." 

When Bismarck appeared in public 
more frequently in December, it was 
observed that he had grown old with 
startling rapidity. lie looked ten years 
older than when lie had left Berlin a few 
months before. The head-quarters of the 
general staff was in the Rue Neuve. It 
was a tranquil, mysterious-looking house, 
where even the sentinels seemed to walk 
with muffled tread, and where no noise 
was ever heard. There were elaborated 
all the great projects of the siege ; there 
the whole network .surrounding Paris 
was daily studied with grave caution ; 
there Oberst-Lieut. Von Yerdy re- 
ceived the journalists, and dulled their 
eagerness for news with non-committal 
replies; there Von Podbielski elaborated 
the despatches in which he had little to 
announce but continuous victory. 

The old and far-famed Hotel des Res- 
ervoirs, the Caf6 de Neptune, and the 
cafis in the neighborhood of the Place 
Hoche were favorite resorts for princes 
and grandees, who came and vent, and 
was the centre for newsgatherers, diplo- 
matic agents, etc. At the Reservoirs, 
towards noon, there was generally a 
brilliant assemblage. Dukes, princes, 
and princelings without number came to 
breakfast in the noted restaurant. Smart 
carriages rattled along the stone-paved 
way leading into the courtyard. A row 
of bareheaded, primly dressed serving- 
men stood ready to receive their particu- 
lar " Excellencies," and couriers ready 
to vault into the saddle waited important 
orders which were given over breakfast 
plates. In the cafis there were always 
dozens of officers on leave who had come 
to see the palace, the park, and to drink 
unlimited coffee and cognac to the as- 
tonishment of the sober Frenchmen. 



Comparatively few of the wounded 
were sent into Versailles after it became 
the royal head-quarters. Ambulances 
and ambulance men were almost num- 
berless. Ladies and gentlemen of all 
nations and professions had devoted 
themselves to the charitable work of 
earing for the wounded ; and those sol- 
diers who were fortunate enough to be 




VON MOLTKK. 

sent to the Palace for treatment had but 
one thing to complain of — the multi- 
plicity of the attentions shown them. 
The Hotel des Reservoirs was a sanitary 
station. American, English, anil Bel- 
gian physicians did good service in and 
around Versailles from the beginning to 
the end of the siege. 

To the right and left of the Place 
d'Armes, adjoining the chdteau, are the 
great cavalry quarters, immense barracks, 
built in a semi-circle ; and these afforded 



<"> *"> o 



ETROTE IX STORM AND CALM. 



good accommodation to the invaders. In 
front of these, of a l'm<' afternoon, five 
or si\ hundred spirited horses might 
be seen out for exercise , the officers' ser- 
vants, generally quite as good cavaliers 
as their masters, putting the splendid 
beasts through all manner of equine 
gymnastics. Every morning the avenues 
were blocked for an hour by the long 
provision trains arriving from the rear. 
The teamsters of these trains provoked 
much laughter even among the saddened 
citizens of Versailles. They were ragged 
and saucy, and seemed to have Keen 
chosen from the oddest of odd German 
types. 

We made frequent journeys around 

Talis during the siege : but some ae- 

countof that one which I first made, after 
the investment was declared complete, 
will serve to give a few pictures of the 
besiegers. I left Versailles with two 
companions one morning for Montmo- 
rency, which lay directly in the foremost 
line <>f investment, and in an advanta- 
geous position for an outlook on Paris. 
The weather was beautifully clear, al- 
though we were at the end of November, 
anil with glasses we could discern the 
Fiench at work on Mont Valerien, and 
saw them occasionally tiring a heavy gun 
in the direction of Si. (loud. Between 
Versailles and Saint Germain we found 
the Westphalian corps stationed, and 
were struck with the wonderful solidity 
and strength of the men. At that point 
even, and at that period of the siege, the 
French would have found it impossible 
to break through. 

Altera hasty breakfast, we took the 
road tlu'ough the forest towards Maisons 
I.atlitte. There we were told that the 
French had succeeded in establishing 
dailv communication between Paris and 
Saint Germain, and had had a mail ser- 
vice in operation for some weeks ; but it 



had now been found out, and the go-be- 
tweens were shortly to be executed. 
From Saint < iemiain, the tine Landwehrs- 
men of the Royal Guard had just de- 
parted, leaving behind them praises, even 
in the mouths of their enemies, for their 
excellent conduct. At the limits of Saint 
Germain we found the Fourth army 
corps, commanded by General Von Al- 
venslehen, who had his head-quarters es- 
tablished at Soissv. 

On the way over the hill, leading into 
Saint Germain, one of my companions 
told me, in sprightly fashion, the story of 
Mont Valerien. " In the fifteenth cen- 
tury," said lie, u when the Prussians 
were still savages on the Brandenburg 
sands, the height on which Valerien 
stands was the Mecca for thousands of 
pious pilgrims. The hill was called Cal- 
vary, ami on it were erected three crosses, 
whose gloomy outlines recalled the pain- 
ful death of our Saviour and his compan- 
ions. The superstitious peasantry of the 
neighborhood firmly believed that if they 
did not make their early pilgrimage to this 
Valerien Calvary they would be cursed 
with ill-luck. In the seventeenth cen- 
tury the church of Sainte-Croix was 
built on tin' hill-top. to commemorate the 
pilgrimages of previous times, and a con- 
vent was soon added. Of this convent 
Richelieu became the director; but in 
the seventeenth century, the priests sold 
the property to the Jacobins, and the 
controlling bishops of Notre Dame' re- 
fused to ratify the bargain. Out of 
this dispute grew a veritable battle, in 
which all the peasants of the vicinity 
joined. The convent was stormed, and 
the Jacobins remained masters. The 
property was finally restored to its orig- 
inal owners by parliamentary decree. 
Jean-Jacques Rousseau loved to wander 
on the hill for hours together, and once 
said to a friend who was with him when 



EUROPE J.V STORM AXD CALM. 



333 



he came suddenly upon a cbapel in which 
some peasants were praying: 'Now I 
understand for the first time what the 

Gospel says, — " Where two or three 
are gathered together in my name, there 
am I in the midst of them." ' The eon- 
vent buildings existed long- after the 
onler for their suppression had been 
passed by the National Assembly. Na- 
poleon I. imagined that a nest of con- 
spirators was concealed there, and 
demolished the convent to substitute 
barracks, nearly completed when 1814 
arrived, and tile building site fell again 
into the hands of the Catholics. Under 
the Restoration the three crosses were 
raised anew by the church, and the con- 
vents were rebuilt. But in 1830 the 
.lesuits were expelled, and the holy edi- 
tices fell into decay. Soon after the for- 
midable great walls of the present fortress 
arose, commanding the valleys and the 
routes in the vicinity. Immense bar- 
racks and bomb proofs were con 
strueted. and in ordinary times a garri- 
son of two thousand men would make 
but little show in the immense place. 
The French." concluded my fellow- 
traveller, '• maintain that the reduction 
of Valerien by bombardment is impossi- 
ble." As he finished this sentence, the 
old fort growled, and the white puff of 
smoke showed us that the gunnel's, see- 
ing us pass, had felt it their duty to 
salute us with the customary useless 
shell. 

From Maisons Latlittc we went on to 
Argentcuil. The forest beyond Saint 
Germain was beautiful in its garb of 
freshly fallen and crystallized snow, and 
the long alleys looked like marble sculpt- 
ured aisles in some vast cathedral. An 
hour's ride brought us to several little 
towns attached to each other by a slender 
thread of houses, and we were soon in 
Maisons Laffitte, and on the Seine bank. 



At Maisons Latlittc we found few sol- 
diers, and the 1 peasants were very aggres- 
sive, and treated us with open hostility 
and suspicion. We' were obliged to 
press one of them into our service and 
force him to show us the cJl&teau which 
Mansard built for Louis XII. down by 
the river fianks. The grounds were tine, 
their natural beauties not having been 
defaced by the insipid style of gardening 
for which Le Notre was notorious, and 
the broad walks, bordered by pedestals on 
which stood busts of the Roman Em- 
perors, were quite imposing. We entered 
the great hall, where male ( rrecian figures 
gleamed above us. The clidteau had for 
a long time been occupied by the be- 
siegers, and, although few attempts at 
wanton destruction had been made, there 
were visible marks of occupation. The 
owner of the cll&teav, at that time was 
the president of a great insurance com- 
pany of Paris, and his private papers 
had been scattered hither and yon. The 
pianos were opened, the beds were left 
richly dressed. In the gorgeously deco- 
rated bed-chamber, and the dainty bou- 
doir, hidden in drifting clouds of rich 
lace, a dozen officers had their quarters, 
and champagne bottles and cigar stumps 
strewed the waxed floors. In the picture 
gallery, where the paintings were undis- 
turbed, mattresses left lying about showed 
that forty soldiers had slept. The fire- 
places were filled with broken meals ami 
bottles. A huge avenue led down to the 
river bank, where formerly there was a 
fine bridge over the Seine. This had 
been blown up early in December. Here 
we were obliged to cross in range of 
Mont Valerien; but the gunners did not 
deign to notice us this time. On the 
other bank, at the village called Sartrou- 
ville, we found soldiers from the Fourth 
corps pushing forward to Argenteuil, 
the nearest point to Paris within the lines. 



334 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



At Sartrouville we heard the sharp 
craclc of the cliassepots, the French out- 
posts keeping up an incessant fire upon 
the Prussians passing unconcernedly to 
and fro within their own lines. An hour 
before our arrival, Mont Valerien had 
been attempting to dislodge some troops 
not far from us. These troops were 
nearly all young men. few older than 
twenty-five, sturdy, hale, honest-looking 
gaillards. We watched them assisting 
each other iii preparations for their 
march, rolling their overcoats, capping 
their pistols, etc. At last, when every- 
thing was ready, they fell into line with- 
out a word. All. as one man, put their 
feet forward en route for Argenteuil. 
This was done so promptly, and with a 
movement so regular, that one might 
have imagined every man a part of a 
machine. In Sartrouville many of the 
houses were completely burned, and the 
country was more desolate than any we 
had seen before. Most of the inhabi- 
tants had gone away, having probably 
retired into Paris at the opening of the 
siege ; lint a few old men were prowling 
about, beseeching the Prussians and 
French alike for alms. 

We left Sartrouville late in the after- 
noon, and neared Argenteuil just as the 
evening sunset was reddening the sky. 
As we came up the hill by which we 
were to descend into Argenteuil we saw 
the quick, white puffs of smoke, which 
denoted a battle, and could hear tin- 
steady roll of firing ahead of us. Where 
the Seine wound away we saw the 
pickets at work, and were cautioned by 
a passing soldier not to venture near the 
river, "as French bullets," he said, 
" easily reached much farther than that." 

Argenteuil was deserted save by a 
few blue-bloused peasants, who begged 
for news with such energy that we for- 
got the rules imposed upou us by the 



Prussians. — not to talk to Frenchmen 
within the German lines and tell them 
what we knew. The lower road from 
Sartrouville to Argenteuil was con- 
stantly swept by a small Are from the 
French lines. We went down to it, hut 
came back convinced that it was not the 
proper place for an excursion. 

At Argenteuil was a hill commanding 
a line view of Paris, and, in the fading 
"low of the sunset, we looked down upon 
tin' misty outlines of the great capital, 
which, at this distance, seemed as calm 
as a cemetery. Here the Germans had 
an observatory, from which, if inclined, 
they could look over Montniartre, and 
could plainly distinguish all the opera- 
tions on the walls of Mont Valerien. 

At the end of the long principal street 
of the town we saw a Frenchman curs- 
ing two Prussians who had offered to 
buy provisions from him. lie refused to 
give them anything, and emptied his 
vocabulary of invectives, finishing his 
remarks with a. hearty hurst of laughter, 
as if he were delighted witli the dilemma 
in which the enemy found itself. Large 
masses of troops were drilling on a plain 
beyond Argenteuil, and here, although 
we were close to Paris and the forts, the 
< lei mans seemed as tranquil and as pos- 
sessed as if they had been at home. 

The next village was Sannois ; and 
here we crossed the railway and bent 
away in the direction of St. Denis and 
the other forts on the east, towards St. 
Gratien ami Epinai, where a sortie had 
lately occurred. Here we found the 
Prussians very numerous, and on the 
alert. Sentinels halted us at every turn 
in the road, and examined our papers 
cautiously. Now ami then we had to 
submit to cross-questioning by some 
lawyer or '• Herr Doctor" with a gun 
on his shoulder, if he presumed to doubt 
that we had really come from Versailles. 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



335 



We passed the night in the foremost 
investment lines, and not far from the 
forts of St. Denis, La Double Couronue 
du Nord, La Breche, and the Fort de 
l'Est. After we had escaped through a 
wassailing party of soldiers, who had in- 
sisted upon quarrelling with us because 
we had avowed that we were not Prus- 
sians, we went to the commandant of the 
place, who received us with courtesy, and 
who sent a soldier to find us quarters for 
the night. This commandant belonged 
to an Anhaltischer regiment, the Ninety- 
third Anhalt-Dessau, and was a fine 
specimen of the German military man. 
He told us that duty there was especially 
arduous, and the men had suffered much. 
The forts never allowed a night to pass 
without throwing at least an hundred 
shells into the lines, on the theory, he 
supposed, that it prevented sleep. It 
was rather startling at first to hear the 
shells come crashing into the streets. 

At Montmorency were stationed the 
Sixth and Seventh divisions of the 
Fourth army corps, the former under 
General Sehwartzhof and the latter under 
General Zelinckski. " The Fourth Pio- 
neers were not far away, in front, near 
Epinai." said the commandant, " andthey 
have had a tremendous raking from the 
very first moment of their occupation." 
They were destined to a trial even more 
severe than auy that had yet been suf- 
fered, on the next night after our arrival, 
and we had an opportunity of witnessing 
many of its phases, during the opera- 
tions which the French had begun 
towards Gennevilliers and Argeuteuil as 
a diversion at the time of General 
Ducrot's great sortie, which culminated 
in the disaster at Champigny. 

Montmorency is one of the loveliest 
suburban towns near Paris. From its 
high hills, crowned with historic villas, it 
dominates a noble sweep of valley, 



forest, and lake. At the foot of one of 
these hills lies Enghien, long famous for 
its sulphur baths; and a little farther on 
is the forest in which so much fighting oc- 
curred during the siege. Aside from its 
feudal history Montmorency acquired 
peculiar interest in later days by the 
choice of it as a residence by many dis- 
tinguished people, and as a pleasure 
haunt by the Parisians. Jean-Jacques 
Rousseau had his hermitage there. The 
old building is still shown, and the chest- 
nut trees under which the old philosopher 
used to muse are still pointed out with 
reverence. Rachel once had a villa at 
Montmorency, and in the so-called new 
hermitage both Gretry, the composer, 
and the Duchesse de Berri have had their 
homes. American and French painters 
have made Montmorency and Enghien 
and Eeoueu their favorite sketching 
grounds for months together. Where 
we found the stalwart men of the Fourth 
Prussian corps grimly grasping their 
rifles at their outposts, many a painter 
had spent studious days in the wood. 

After inspecting our rather gloomy 
quarters, a deserted villa, in which I in- 
curred the displeasure of two soldiers 
because I interfered to prevent them 
from cutting joints of raw meat upon a 
costly piano, we were invited to supper 
with a young lieutenant of the command- 
ant's regiment, a baron, who insisted 
upon regaling us with music as well as 
with wine and with " Erbsiourst." This 
colossus— he must have been six feet 
three, and of phenomenal measure across 
the chest — sat drinking red wine all the 
evening and listening to the music of 
Beethoven and Wagner, which one of 
his corporals played on the piano. Now 
and then the forts added their deep bass 
to the music, but we paid little attention 
to them. The baron had already had 
numerous shells in his quarters, and 



336 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM 



showed us pieces i>f one which had ex- 
ploded in his kitchen on the previous 
day. •■The men," he said, "consider 
outpost duty here as equal to going into 
:i skirmish, and they !< >< >k forward to it 
with many forebodings. This picket 
duty is imposed upon them for four days. 
Those who are in the picket-line at night 
do no duty on the following day." The 
lines were something less than three 
thousand feet apart, yet very few out- 
posts were killed ; but alarms were con- 
tinual. 

We slept that night on some rather 
unsavory straw in what had been the 
salon of our villa, and the screaming of 
the shells going over the house, and the 
smoke and stench from the file, built of 
fragments of green palings, in the long- 
unused fireplace, kept us wakeful. 
Next day, as the cannonading was 
furious in the direction of Engliien and 
Epinai, we left our horses, and went, 
down to the road leading to Engliien and 
the forest beyond. Alter a walk of an 
hour and a half through a charming 
series of villa-bordered streets, we came 
to the entrance of the town, where we 
were arrested by an officer, who, how- 
ever, soon became our guide, and told 
us that an important sortie was in prog- 
ress. 

Here the main railway line' was barri- 
caded heavily, and a stockade hail been 
built for some distance along the road. 
Barricades were numerous, .and it was 
evident that the French would have 
to make a desperate fight to break 

through here. The otlicel's showed us 

the famous Chinese villa of De Ville- 
messant, the editor of the sprightly Paris 
Figaro, and on the opposite side of the 
lake, which is one of Enghien's attrac- 
tions, the country-house of the famous 
editor of the Liberty Emile de (iirardin. 
But he was soon obliged to leave us, 



ami the incessant cracking of musketry 
in the French lines, about live thousand 
yards away, and the furious cannon- 
ading, convinced us that the light 
was drawing near. From that mo- 
ment until late at night Enghien and 
its neighborhood were as thoroughly 
scourged by shells as was the battle- 
field of Sedan on the day of the 
memorable disaster to the French. 
The forward movement in the French 
sortie diil not begin until the next day; 
but great mortar batteries, established 
at Aigenteuil and Bezons, were making 
desperate efforts to dislodge the Ger- 
mans from the positions which we were 
now visiting. A furious grenade tire 
was directed upon Engliien and Saint 
Gratien. Next day the French forces 
were pushed vigorously up and into 
the edge of Epinai, their outposts re- 
maining just within the limits of the 
town after the main body had been 
driven hack. All the troops from 
Montmorency were in this light, and 
spoke with the greatest respect of the 
lire from the forts. The commandant 
said that at one time it was beyond 
description awful. Eight or ten shells 
per minute were thrown with remark- 
able precision into the lines of the Prus- 
sians. A brother officer of his was 
killed in a minute by a. grenade, which 
cut him almost in two. The losses of 
this division were about eighteen offi- 
cers and three hundred men. The 
commandant said he saw steel mitrail- 
leuse batteries, mounted on railway 
carriages, iron-clad. These we thought 
a myth, and laughed at the story; but 
his statement was subsequently proved 
to be true, and the English have since 
used these railway batteries to great 
advantage in Egypt. This command- 
ant, and all the Prussian officers whom 
we met during the next two days, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



337 



spoke with the highest praise of the 
fighting qualities of the French. After 
the .struggle at Epinai, among the 
dead were found many who had thrown 
away their rations, their caps, every- 
thing save their guns, in Iheir desire to 
tight without hindrance. The French 
troops, said the Germans, all had three 
days' rations of white bread and cutlets 
of horse-flesh. This is all they had to 
eat. They were well equipped. Most 
of those who were found dead were 
Mobiles. Many prisoners were taken, 
and among them some few Zouaves. 
All along the forest country near Eng- 
hien, for the next day and a half, it. 
seemed as if the mouth of hell had 
been opened; grenades rained every- 
where ; hundreds were .sunk in the lake, 
and did no good nor harm. 

Next morning, despite the cautions 
of the Germans against the Fraucs-Tir- 
eurs, who. they said, were occasionally 
to be met with in the forest, we went 
down from Montmorency through the 
wood and on to Saint Gratien, to visit 
the villa of the Princess Mathilde, a 
member of the late Imperial family. 
We were somewhat amused at the 
vit'irctv of the German sentinels, who 
insisted upon supposing us to be 
Frenchmen and questioned the authen- 
ticity of our military passes. We found 
the villa, a kind of bastard ch&teau, 
had been used during the preceding 
day as a hospital; and on entering, we 
found the bed-chamber of the Trim-ess 

stained with Prussian blood. Wounded 
men were lying groaning upon the most 
elegant and costly couches. The pict- 
ures, the library, and furniture re- 
flected the somewhat voluptuous tastes 
of the Princess, who had occupied the 
nook as a retreat wheu the gayeties of 



Paris became fatiguing. The decora- 
tions by Giraud wen- composed of 
subjects rather broader in tone and 
treatment than would have been ad- 
mitted in a respectable English 01 
American family. 

From the chdteau we went on to Saint 
Gratien, a little town of a few hundred 
inhabitants, celebrated as the burial 
place of a marquis who was a valiant 
soldier under the First, Empire, and had 
attained the grade of Marshal, when, for 
some fault, he was reduced to the ranks. 
and retired to the forest at this unfor- 
tunate close of his military career to 
muse and mourn until death relieved 
him of his troubles. 

We returned to Eughien by another 
road through tho forest, and found the 
pioneers busy in felling the beautiful 
trees and laying them across each other 
ia the most scientific manner. To for- 
tify the positions ic that neighborhood, 
thousands upon thousands of uobl 
trees were sacrificed. Wagon trains 
loaded with materials for fortifying the 
outside positions were creaking along 
the frosty highways, and the wagoners 
were gayly mocking at the thunderous 
refrain kept up by the four northern 
brother forts. The great watch-dogs in 
front of the walls of Paris were barking 
with all their might and main to encour- 
age the poorly equipped and almost un- 
tried troops, which were at that moment 
beginning to grapple at C'hampigny with 
their heretofore triumphant and well- 
trained enemies. From Montmorency 
we pushed on through St. Brice, Villiers- 
le-Bel, and Sarcellcs to Gonesse, the 
head-quarters of Prince August of Wur- 
temburg, against whose rather thin 
lines General Ducrot had thrown enor- 
mous masses of men. 



o,]S EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX. 

The Period of Despair. ■ -The Final Effort. —The Great S vtie. — Champijjuj-. The Fight at Villicrs.— 
Duerol and Ilia I lisaster. - - Valorous! tonclucl of the French. —The News of the Defeat of the Loire 
Army. 

THE grent sortie which the Parisians to be thrown across the River Marne 
bad now undertaken, and of which during the night of the 28 tb— 29th of 
we had seen the unsuccessful beginning, November had done his work with the 
was 1 n>>j;ii n with the hope thai Gambetta care and skill which the engineers of the 
had at last organized victory in the enemy's forces always showed on sin h 
south, and that his conquering forces, important occasions, he would have con- 
arriving from the district of the Loire, trlbuted no little to the raising of the 
would be able to effect a junction with siege of Paris, and perhaps might have 
the forces under the walls of Paris, and Haltered himself that he was a powerful, 
sweep away the invader into hopeless although humble, instrument in the lib- 
retreat and disastrous confusion. It is eration of the great capital. 
said upon good authority that General But the bridges were not ready. 
Trochu, despite his position as coin- The Prussians, as we had observed 
mander in Paris, made no secret of his from the beginning of the campaign, 
belief that the resistance was hopeless ; and, in fact, all the German armies, 
and it is also said of him thai at, a carried with them, and took the utmost 
certain council, when he was asked if he pains to keep in excellent order, pon- 
did not believe in resistance, ••With all toon trains for all emergencies. The 
the troops in Paris we can effect noth- presence of these pontoon trains at 
ing," he said, "except to make dust for the rear of the advancing columns 
future generations to walk on." Gen- was the means of saving many a 
eral Trochu was much reproached for noble bridge and viaduct in France, 
many years after the war for this policy for the French, who are a very logical 
of despair; but I believe lie has never people, were at once convinced that 
undertaken to deny or defend it. it was useless to destroy fine masonry 
He was not anxious, however, nor had over streams which the enemy could 
he the power, to prevent the organization bridge for itself ten minutes after 
of the great effort of the last few days the arches and piers were sprung. 
of November. It is at once curious and Genius has been not inaptly described 
sad to note that this French sortie, as as an infinite capacity for taking pains, 
all the battles ill the campaign, had ami the supply of this capacity in the 
failed for lack of proper preparation of German army was quite wonderful, 
material resources absolutely necessary The French could improvise a defense 
to the carrying out of a military plan, out of the incessant labor of a few days; 
If the engineer who was charged with in desperate valor and in self-sacrifice 
the preparation of the pontoon I nidges they were the peers of their enemy; but, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



339 




340 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

when it, came to eool foresight and engineers who had not got the bridges 

abundant calculation, they were infinitely ready.) "General Vinoy, who was to 

inferior. advance upon Choisy, was not warned 

The Maine was not bridged at the in time. He executed his movement, 

proper time by the French pontoons, and when he found that the governor 

ami tin 1 stupendous operations which had adjourned his. in' was forced to 

General Vinoy and General Ducrot were retreat alter suffering heavy losses. 

to have carried into effect were checked, This event caused an emotion which 

and finally ruined. The ly advantage you will easily understand ; but it must 

which the French derived from the sortie not he exaggerated. The governor has 

was the infliction of tremendous losses taken possession of the plateau of Avron, 

upon the enemy, and of the addition of where he has strongly fortified himself, 

a brilliant page to French military his- and where he intends to continue his 

toiv. operations. The danger is that we may 

M. Favre, lonely in his cabinet, after meet there a warned and concentrated 

the exhausting labors of the day. wrote enemy. You may imagine our anxiety, 

nightly to Gambetta letters full of If we fail, we are doubly lost; hut this 

energy, courage, and hope. On the is not the time to be discouraged." 

29th of November he wrote the brilliant General Ducrot had marshalled forth 

voung delegate, who was building up his soldiers of the "second army of 

the defense in the South, a brief note, Paris," as he called them, with a fiery 

which <_iivcs a clear notion of the objects proclamation. In this document he told 

of the great sortie. " As the govern- the troops that the action had heen pre- 

ment had informed you," wrote .M. pared for months ; that the cominander- 

Favre, "it had fixed upon Tuesday, the in-chief had got together more than four 

29th, for the sortie, on the general plan hundred cannon, two-thirds of which were 

which it had already given you some of heavy calibre ; that one hundred and 

idea of. This plan was audacious, care- eighty thousand men. well-armed and 

fully prepared, and its main aim was to equipped, ought to go any where ; that the 

pierce the German lines with an army enemy was descending to the hanks of 

of one hundred thousand men. and to the Loire with his best soldiers, where 

join forces with you on or near the Loire. they were all to he beaten by the newly 

The governor (General Trochu) began organized French armies; that courage 
his movements on Sunday. The princi- and confidence would win the day ; and 
pal task was confided to General Ducrot. that, as tor himself, he was firmly re- 
Ilis operations were to he masked by solved, and took an oath before the 
attacks from different sides, deceiving army and the nation to return into 
the enemy, and giving it no rest. The Paris " dead or victorious." 
governor went out yesterday to one of These were brave words, which put a 
flic principal points to observe the pas- certain fever into the blood of the soldiers, 
sage of his army over the Maine, on who felt that the fate of the country de- 
seven bridges : unfortunately, at mid- pended upon the success of their efforts. 
night, a sudden rise in the Manic ren- Poor General Ducrot, after the failure of 
dered this passage impossible." (This his operations, was roundly abused and 
was the story which was invented to much ridiculed because he had not kept 
excuse the delay and the blunder of the his word ; hut. if he did not succeed in 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



341 



gaining a permanent victory, lie did 
everything that he could to win a 
soldier's death, before returning to 
Paris. Dozens of soldiers testify to 
his bravery in battle, and on the field 
of Champigny he pushed into the very 
ranks of the enemy, and broke his sword 
in a Saxon's breast. But his life was 
charmed. He could not die, and he was 
obliged to swallow his line words, and to 
live for many years afterwards a soured 
and disappointed, but unquestionably an 
honorable and capable soldier. 

The failure of the French to cross the 
Marue in the night of the 28th gave 
the Germans twenty-four hours in which 
to concentrate fresh troops upon the 
weak portions of their lines, and, by 
sunset on the 29th, all hope of breaking 
through the point towards which the 
French were directing their endeavors 
was gone. On the 30th of November, 
early in the morning, the two first French 
divisions crossed the river, and pushed 
the enemy back to the first slopes of 
Champigny. A series of battles and ar- 
tillery duels took place along the plateau 
of Avron, on the heights of Montmedy, 
Creteil, Joinville-le-Pont, Champigny, 
Noisy-le-Grand, and Villiers-sur-Marue. 
The Wurtemburg troops, when they 
wire first struck by the vigorous French 
attack, were sadly demoralized. I had 
ocular evidence of that, and had they 
been unaided they would have opened 
their ranks and let the besieged through, 
on their way to the junction with Gam- 
betta's forces. But, as soon as they 
began to fall back, they found that they 
were supported by the Saxons, and by 
regiment after regiment of Prussians, 
coming up in solid order. 

So they rallied, and pushed away the 
French, who had already taken posses- 
sion of the summit of Montmedy. As 
soon as they saw the action turning in 



their favor, they came forward with loud 
shouts and flourished their guns over 
their heads like madmen. Doubtless 
they were a little ashamed of having 
broken ranks shortly before, and had 
determined to make up for it, now that 
they felt safe. In front of them there 
had come up undisciplined French 
troops, who fell back in considerable 
disorder upon Creteil. But one of their 
generals was brave even to utter rash- 
ness, and was shot down within thirty 
yards from the Prussian lines, still crying 
out," Forward! " This energetic officer, 
who had won a high reputation in the 
African and Italian campaigns, was the 
talk of all the German soldiers for the 
next few days. When the first charge 
on Montmedy occurred, he went into it 
flourishing his cap on the end of his 
sabre; and his men would have followed 
him to destruction. He went through 
the first charge, although a pistol ball 
had broken one of his wrists. He was 
the man who, when he was slowly dying, 
a day or two after the battle, from the 
numerous wounds which he had received, 
said to the soldiers who surrounded his 
bed, " If we still have an army that 
knows how to die, France may be saved." 

On this same day of the 30th there 
was a tremendous battle in and around 
the villages of Bry-sur-Marne and Cham- 
pigny. In Bry-sur-Marne the battle was 
from house to house, from alley-way to 
alley-way; and here the French Zouaves, 
who had won such a bad reputation at 
the outset of the siege, in flying from the 
table-land of Chatillon, fought with ad- 
mirable courage, and redeemed their 
honor. 

All the time that this hand-to-hand 
fighting in the villages was going on 
there was a perfectly terrific artillen 
duel between batteries of the contending 
forces. Having repossessed themselves 



342 EUROPE W STORM AND CALM. 

of Montmedy, the Germans bad sue- It is not too much to say, (hut, on 

eeeded in shutting the door which had that night, the forces on both .sides 

been momentarily opened on the road to ceased their efforts from utter exhaus- 

Versailles ; and they bolted and barred tion. Every nerve in both armies had 

it so effectually as to have no fears that been strained to the utmost for more 

it would be opened again. than thirty-six hours. There were Ger- 

Meantime the French were creeping man troops in the fight who had not had 

up the heights of Villiers and Clienne- a moment's rest for all that time. A 

vieres, disputing foot by foot the blood- philosophical Wurtemburger, who was in 

stained way, hiding among the vines and the whole Villiers tight, — a kind of ram- 

stopping, now and then, — -poor, half- bling encounter, which lasted for four or 

starved fellows! — to pluck the frozen live days, — in writing from Villiers to 

grapes which hung convenient to their some friends on tlie oth of December, 

grasp. It was slow work coming up and describing the task of retaking Mont- 

these hills; and it was half-past four in mesly, while the German troops were 

tlie afternoon before the French bat- subjected to a crushing tire from the 

talions got to the walls of the park at forts, said, " You can have no idea of 

Villiers, where the Prussians had made the frightful rain of shells which we en- 

t heir retreat, countered here. It is a veritable miracle 

When once the French troops were that our whole battery was not destroyed 

well upon the hill, a long and terrible simply by the immense numerical supe- 

line of musketry sent forth such a sweep- riority of (he French flatteries. We tired 

ing fire of death that, hundreds upon upon them with precision and coolness, 

hundreds of men fell before they could but in less than half an hour we had lost 

reach a cover; and the scene, for a few eight men and fifteen horses. My horse 

minutes after this army of on-rushing was struck down by a shell five seconds 

French, mail for victory and wild for after I dismounted from it. Mitrail- 

revenge, was transformed in the twink- /atsfs were placed at a. short distance 

ling of an eye into groaning and writhing from us, and their bullets went hissing 

masses of wounded men, heaped upon above our heads like a swarm of bees, 

their dead comrades, was one of the We had to band together, and get into 

st frightful and startling of the whole position a hundred paces farther away 

century. When the sun went down behind the wall of a park, which we soon 

that night, the sky was red as blood, had in a state of defense." 

as if the dread colors of the battle-field This little paragraph gives an ade- 

were reflected in it. Then silence fell quate idea of the manner in which the 

upon the whole country side. The Germans always availed themselves of 

groaning of the cannon, the harsh shelter. In many an action German 

shrieks of the mitrailleuses, the hurrahs troops were scarcely seen at all by the 

of the Wurtemburgers and their sturdy enemy. If there was a wall convenient, 

allies, who had come up just in time to the\ had loop-holed it ; a forest. the\ 

save them, the cries of the wounded. — were hidden within it: a barricade was 

ali died away, as it the shades of the a God-send to them ; a cemetery, a ditch, 

winter twilight, rapidly falling over the — anything which they could transform 

scene of carnage, had blotted it out. into a temporary fortification, — was in- 

aud swept it into eternal oblivion. stantlv and invariably adopted. " I 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



34.3 




344 



EUHOrii IX STomi AM> CALM. 



thank God," said this German soldier, ribly, and hundreds of them were unfit 

" that I :ini slill alive. I shall never for battle next day. Trees wen' cut 

forget that day. Some of the Prussian down and great fires were built, both 

otticerssaid thatit was a much worse affair because General Trochu wished to make 

than that of Gravelotte. The soil was the enemy think that an immense army 

fairly turned up by the French shells, was encamped near him, and because the 

For the first, time I understand what it men were literally freezing. The lior- 

means to be outside of cover under an rors of that night for the wounded men 

artillery fire. On the 30th we could not surpass all the powers of description. 
o icupy the villages of Champigny and Next day there was no fighting, but 

I'rv-sur-M.iine, for when the forts began early on the morning of the 2d of De- 




THE PRIESTS' AMBULANCE CORPS AT THE BATTLE OF CFIAMPIdXY. 



to concentrate their lire upon them they 
were too hot to stay in ; all the more be- 
cause we wen' attacked by forces quad- 
ruple our own iii numbers." 

When the French got into Champigny 
they found it in a frightful condition. 
The Saxons, who had been occupying it 
for some time, were greatly annoyed at 
being disturbed, and they smashed every- 
thing: mirrors, costly furniture, — re- 
specting nothing whatever. Nextmorn- 
ing, the weather, which had been mild, 
suddenly became very cold. The half-fed 
ami excited French troops suffered ter- 



cember the Saxons and Wurtemburg- 

ers together fell upon the towns of Bry- 
sur-Marne and Champigny; and this 
was a part of the deliberate attempt of 
the Germans to throw General Ducrot's 
army back upon the righf bunk of the 
Marne and to push it into the river, or 
compel it to complete disorganization 
and confused retreat, which would render 
any future operations on its part impos- 
sible. 

The French troops at first fought mag- 
nificently against the vast numbers of 

the enemy, which now flocked down upon 



EUllorE IN STORM AND CALM. 



\\\: 



them. Fresh reinforcements were sent 
up, and the contest promised to be long, 
and possibly to be decided in favor of 
the Parisians. When the new German 
column came out of the woods of Villiers 
and began to push the French troops 



and his aids. The Government of 
National Defense papered the walls 
with encouraging proclamations. On 
the next day came a sad surprise, and 
one which at first stupefied and finalh 
exasperated the Parisians. On the 4th 



hack upon Bry-sur-Marne, and towards of December General Ducrot announced 
the River Marne, the French lines wav- to the besieged within the walls of the 
cred. General Ducrot and General Tro- capital, by means of a proclamation 
chu made desperate efforts to rally them, issued to his own troops, that he had 
The great military park on the 
plateau of Avron sent forth a 
formidable lire to cut gaps in 
the German lines ; and at last 
one hundred thousand men, 
who had swarmed for an hour 
or two on the hillsides, — Prus- 
sians, Bavarians, Saxons, and 
W'urtemburgers, — hesitated, 
and finally were forced to halt 
and 10 withdraw a little. 

At four o'clock in the .after- 
noon they were found throwing 
up intrenchments, as if fearing 
that they who had been at- 
tacked might suddenly be the 
attacking party. The French 
had managed to get about half 
of C'hampigny ; they had retaken 
house a Iter house, and barricade 
after barricade ; but the German prisoi 
ers told them that there were at least 
one hundred and fifty thousand Prus- 
sians massed not far away; ami, after 
the numerous arrivals of fresh troops 
that they had seen, they began to believe 

this statement. General Trochu, how- where the enemy had had plenty of 
ever, claimed the day as a victory for 
the French armies; and General Ducrot, 




brought his army 
back across the 
Marne, becaust 
he was convince 
that new efforts 
in a direction 
where the enemy 



who had been wounded on this day b 



had had plenty 
time to concentrate all its forces, and 
to prepare all its means of action, 
would be useless. "Had I persisted 



splinter of a shell, after having ridden in this line of attack," lie said, " I 



right through the German lines two or 
three times, still expressed hopes that 
the operations would be successful. 

Paris was electrified by the despatches 
which came to it from General Trochu 



should uselessly have sacrificed many 
thousands of brave men, and. instead 
of serving the cause of deliverance, I 
should seriously have compromised it." 
Perhaps it required more moral bravery 



34(i 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



on the part of General Ducrotto do just 
what In 1 did than to have plunged anew 
into a battle which could have had but 
one end, — tin' partial or complete anni- 
hilation of his army on the banks "f the 
Marne. 

The whole country for miles around 
was tilled with the marks of the san- 
guinary struggle; the villages were in 
ruins; the hills were piled with heaps of 
mangled corpses. On the French side 
the priests and the volunteer ambulance 
men were busy in bearing away to Paris 
those of the soldiers who were not 
mortally wounded, and preparing decent 
places in the farm-houses and cottages 
lor those whose sands of life were fast 
running out. On the frozen earth along 
the heights beyond Champigny and 
Villiers, the German dead were still 
lying in piles and rows on the 3d and 
1th of December, although burial parties 
worked vigorously during the nights, and 
after the light of the 30th they labored 
during the whole of the 1st, determined 
to conceal as much as possible their 
losses from the enemy. As a French 
writer has tersely said, in his impartial 
and careful account of this scries of 
lights, ten thousand dead men of the two 
races were strewn along the frozen hills, 
and nothing had been done to change the 
destiny of Paris. The blockade con- 
tinued. General Ducrot had reentered 
alive and victorious in vain. 

At first Paris could not believe that 
this was the cud of its great hope. It 
did not doubt that military operations 
would be continued at another point. 
Very likely the attack at Champigny had 
been only a feint. We should soon hear 
of fights elsewhere, and the besieged, not 
doubting that the Loire army was near 
at hand, looked with confidence for the 
soldiers of General AnrellesdePaladines. 



But on the evening of the Gth of Decem- 
ber the Parisians learned by a procla- 
mation that letters had been exchanged 
between General Von Moltke and 
General Troebu. The German general 
informed General Trochu, in a note of 
icy politeness and Spartan brevity, that 
the army of the Loire had been defeated 
on the previous day near Orleans and 
that the city had been occupied by the 
victorious troops. 

The loss of the French during this 
series of battles was six thousand and 
thirty men, of which four hundred and 
fourteen were officers. The Germans 
lost much more heavily, and for some 
time after the siege the French insisted 
that the affair of Champigny and Villiers 
had cost Germany fifteen thousand sol- 
diers ; but this estimate was greatly 
exaggerated. 

Some days after the arrival of General 
Von Moltke's letter in Paris, the Govern- 
ment of National Defense learned that 
the enemy had spoken truly ; yet the 
army of the Loire was only cut in two. 
It was neither captured nor annihilated.. 
Paris took heart a little. General 
Chanzv was still capable of a good re- 
sistance ; General Faidherbe was mak- 
ing a capital light in the north ; and 
General Bourbaki, at Bourges, was pre- 
paring to assume the offensive with 
vigor. General Trochu now shut him- 
self up atVincenu.es, where he said that 
he was so busy with the reorganization 
of his army that he could give no atten- 
tion to the interior administration of 
Paris. Starvation and bitter winter 
weather had come at the close of an un- 
successful smiic to urge the Parisians 
to yield. 

Yet they held out with a bravery 
which has never been surpassed in the 
history of the world. 



EUROPE IN ST011M AXD CALM. 



u: 



CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN. 

Panoramic-View of the German Investment Lines. — Margency. — Goncsse. — Chelles. — The Various Corps 
and Their Appearance. — Pictures from Versailles during the Occupation. — The Snow. — The 
Landwehrsmen. — Tin- 1 )hristmas Festivities. 



CONTINUING our journey, we found 
at Margency, which was simply a 
hamlet attached to a chdteau, the head- 
quarters of the Crown Prince of Saxony, 
who had under his command the Fourth, 
Sixth, and Guard corps. Our intention 
was to remain here for some days; but 
the odious weather and the wretched ac- 
commodation forbade it. So we pushed 
on to Gouesse, the head-quarters of 
Prince August von Wurtemburg. Our 
route lay through Villiers-le-Bel, — a name 
dear to American and English artists, — 
and through Sarcelles. The Fourth 
corps joined the Guard at Groslay, a 
village just outside the limits of Mont- 
morency, and extended to Clichy-sur- 
Bois, not far from Chelles, and the scene 
of the important struggle just recounted 
on the banks of the Maine and the 
Seine. St. Brice, nearby, one of the oc- 
cupied points, was celebrated as one of 
Bossuet's many residences. To the right 
was Pierrefltte, still occupied by the 
French, and a little less than two miles 
and a half from the outer French line of 
defense. 

The Guard, without doubt the noblest 
body of men in the German army, had 
already suffered terribly in the war; and 
it was said at Gonesse, though I know 
not how truly, that this corps alone had 
lost more men in the struggles around 
Metz than the whole war of 1866 had 
cost Prussia. It was a proud and fiery 
corps, composed in large degree of per- 
sons of rank. But a few days before I 



had met in Versailles a young officer, 
just about to leave one of the Uhlan 
regiments of the Guard because he was 
not a baron and every other officer in 
the regiment was. There were some 
regiments in which nearly every man had 
a title. To be introduced to an officer 
at Gouesse without hearing him signalled 
as •• Herr Graf" would have at once at- 
tracted attention to him. Many of the 
officers stationed here were extremely 
young, but nearly all were men of high- 
breeding and culture. Many a man in 
coarse uniform possessed a larger in- 
come than the proprietor of the costly 
villa in which he was temporarily lodged. 
The officers had very generally estab- 
lished in each of the little towns com- 
modious restaurants called "Officers' 
Casinos." and had pressed into their 
service some few unwilling French cooks 
who had remained in the neighborhood. 
One saw many an officer spending more 
for the bottle of wine which he drank for 
his breakfast than he received as pay for 
soldiering for a week. Private pockets, as 
well as government's treasury, were well 
depleted. The French charged enormous 
prices. Everything was at least triple 
or quadruple its former value. Potatoes 
and vegetables of all kinds were most 
difficult to obtain. The officers con- 
tented themselves with black bread, and 
made up for the absence of beer by 
swallowing numerous bottles of the or- 
dinary wine of the country, when no 
other was to be had. 



;J4,S EUROPE l.\ STORM AND CALM. 

At Gonesse we 1 1 : i < 1 a pretty severe important point what they called a 
trial of our nerves, because we had Kriegsbruckc, that is, a. pontoon bridge, 
settled down to breakfast in a corner for war purposes, tliey had noted with 
of the town which had, unfortunately, the greatest care the various routes lead- 
been selected that morning for prac- ing to it, especially for wagon trains and 
tii-e by the gunners in the neighbor- convoys. 

ing French fort, and the shells fell with From Gonesse we pushed forward, 

a recklessness which was quite appall- getting just within the first line of in- 

ing. Fortunately a dense fog hindered vestment to Sevran, a little town badly 

the gunners from doing much damage, punished bv shells. On our way thither 

In the neighborhood of Gonesse ween- we had an opportunity to observe the 

countered, for the first time, a very grave manner in which the German outposts 

difficulty, but one which we afterwards fortified their positions. Breastworks 

met at every turn in making trips around were thrown up almost- everywhere, con- 

I'aris. Whenever we asked a French- strueted out of every available material, 

man to show us the wav. as we were Where roads failed in the fields, artifi- 

naturallv puzzled bv the labyrinth of eial ones had been made out. of the un- 

large and small roads, he always mis- threshed wheat, of which great heaps 

directed us. This, at first, we could garnished the roadsides. Even the roads 

hardly believe, until we lost a couple of were doubly and triply barricaded at 

hours by trusting to our French guides, certain points, so that the French, in 

Presently we noted that the Prussians making a sortie, would be sure to get, 

had the whole country classified into themselves under a deadly lire. •■Alarm 

various districts, traversed by certain houses " were frequent along this route, 

routes; and these were plainly indicated The Prussians had created facilities for 

by huge signs marked in ink, on the seeing almost every movement that any 

stone fence corners. " Colonenweg " considerable body of Frenchmen could 

signified that the road where the sign make near Paris, and could always [ire- 
appeared was the proper one for heavy pare themselves splendidly lor defense, 
munition and provision trains; and at. Aunet, an insignificant village near 
every town's entrance and exit, one Sevran, was only noticeable from the 
found the way to and from each town fact that numbers of the Guard corps 
within a radius of twenty miles properly had illustrated their talent with numer- 
shown on a little map. Other German ous drawings on the walls of the houses. 
corps had not the same thoroughness The signs that had been placed to indi- 
of system noticeable among the Pius- catc the way were sometimes rendered 
sians. For instance, the Saxons, who very amusing by the little .sketches 
lav just beyond Gonesse, rarely marked which the several visitors to the iiidica- 
thi' way so that a stranger could find teur had drawn. At Sevran we passed 
it. The French, at the beginning of the Canal de L'Ourcq, cleverly turned 
the siege of Paris, had turned all the from its course by a German engineer at 
sign-boards wrong end first, or. when the beginning of the investment, and 
that had been impossible, had taken the bridge over which we went had been 
them down and pitched them into the barricaded, the side towards Paris being 
nearest stream. Wherever the Pin-- protected with doors taken from the 
sians had thrown across the river at an granaries. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



349 



The scenery through which we now 
passed was of dazzling loveliness. The 

snow still decked the trees with crystals, 
and a temperate sun threw a genial. Imt 
not melting, light upon this fairy splen- 
dor. Hills were indistinguishable, ami 
seemed to fade into the sky. A brush- 
heap became an opalescent mass, and the 
far-off forests, where symmetrical trees 
rose in long avenues, were fantastic as 
dream-foliage. Here we were skirting 
the noble and ancient wood of Bondy, 
when' old King Childeric met his unhappy 
fate, and were drawing gradually towards 
the banks of the charming Marne. 

At Livry we took the wrong road, 
and had gone two miles straight towards 
one of the forts before we discovered 
our mistake. Had it not been for a com- 
pass I do not know what would have 
happened, for we should probably have 
got into the French lines. At Livry, one 
of Madame de Sevigne's favorite haunts, 
there was nothing noticeable beyond the 
industry of the soldiers, who were none 
of them lolling about or playing at cards, 
but were all engaged in some kind of 
hard work. Carpenters were plying their 
trade; blacksmiths were soiling their 
uniforms over used-up horses ; the cooks 
ha«l improvised the accustomed cap, the 
sign of their profession, out of the news- 
papers sent them from Germany; ami 
the officers were giving orders as busily 
as the captain of a Cunardcr in a gale. 

We were soon at Clichy-sous-Bois, 
where the Guard corps ceased and the 
Saxons were stationed. The First in- 
fantry division had its head-quarters 
here in a huge chdteau, and some officers 
told us that their corps extended as far 
as the left bank of the Marne on to the 
scene of the recent fight. The Saxons 
were a, ruddy, healthy, but dowdy look- 
ing, set of soldiers. The officers were 
models of elegance and refined courtesy. 



There was. however, a lack of that 
thoroughness of occupation which we 
had remarked among the exclusively 
Prussian troops ; and, on the whole, from 
this point to where the gallant Second 
corps began, we could remark at every 
turn the superiority of Prussia to the 
sister states in military training. 

From Clichy we rode on to Mont Ver- 
meil, and thence through the charming 
forest of Chelles. The grand old abbey 
of Chelles has twice been ravaged by the 
English, — in 1358 and 1429, — and once 
entirely overturned by a hurricane. Put 
it has always been restored by piou 
hands, and is one of the architectural 
wonders of France. Chelles is pictu- 
resquely situated, and stalely poplars 
border the plains which stretch out from 
the town. Here we got into trouble with 
an officer, who hail cautioned us against 
going over the upper of the two pontoon 
bridges which he had caused to be built 
over the Marne, and we had mistaken 
his direction and crossed the wrong 
bridge. The result was just what he 
had expected. We drew the lire from 
Forts Noisy and Rosny, and that un- 
fortunate bridge was raked with shell 
for twenty minutes afterwards, in such 
a manner that we were not surprised at 
the officer's rage. Our last glimpse of 
him was as he stood jumping up and 
down on the banks of the Marne, and 
shaking his fists at us. while the whole 
atmosphere was charged with three-cor- 
nered German imprecations. He was so 
excited that he took no care for his own 
safety, and it was by no means pleasant 
to stand under this storm of the tre- 
mendous projectiles launched by the 
forts. 

We talked with the Wurtemburgers 
who had been in the recent battle. These 
were stolid, tranquil, and clumsy men, 
whom the French never shook from their 



."). r >0 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

posts, aor blew away with artillery, nor Bondy St. Leger, where the stalwart 

frightened with bayonet charges. "It Pomeranian Second regiment was quar- 

was not much of a fight," said one; tered along the road, and as we were 

■• they could not dig lis out." The simile Hearing the latter town we caught a. 

was a good one. charming glimpse of Paris. From the 

Before us lay the lovely Maine, the high hill which we climbed just before 
snow-clad branches ou its banks reflected reaching a forest surrounding Baron 
in the dark blue of its water, and here Hottinguer's chdtecui, the sun strug- 
and there a little island half hidden under gled out of a cloud under which he had 
the sweeping boughs of the ancient trees, been sulking for some lime, and touched 
Beyond the bridge we found a pioneer the distant dome of the Invalides, so 
guard seated around a pleasant camp- near and yet so far. We could clistin- 
fire. We rode to Champs; thence to guish the twin towers of Notre Dame 
Malnoue, and so over the barren battle- and the dimly outlined dome of the Pan- 
field on which the Wurtem burgers had theon. Smoke and flames arose from 
done such valiant work. Here the numbers of villages which had just been 
country was desolate. In no village tired by shells from Forts Ivry and 
could we tinil a wisp of hay for our Charenton. On the high plateau at the 
horses: no soldier had enough for his entrance to the wood of Bondy the Ger- 
own beast. At Champs we found the mans had established a post of observa- 
peasants so sharp in their expression tion. From Bondy to the old bridge of 
of hatred to us as their supposed foes Charenton, almost, under the very walls 
that we were not sorry to find plenty of of Paris, there is a direct road, along 
soldiers in the vicinity. which there had been much fighting. 

We pushed on from Malnoue to La. The Pomeranians were sore and angry, 

Queue-en-Brie, a little town which bore for their losses in the action in which 

indisputable marks of hard usage during they had just played such an important 

the recent light. This had been an part had been very heavy. Here, at 

asylum for the wounded, and the ground Bondy, the massing of troops was tre- 

in nearly all the yards was strewn with mendous. It was evident that another 

blood-stained straw. Every available sortie was expected, and that the two 

article of furniture had been smashed hundred thousand men win.) had recently 

tor firewood. It was not until the cold been called under arms in Germany 

weather came that the Prussians began were fast arriving in the field. Soldiers 

to do veritable damage to the costly swarmed in the forests and ill the villages 

houses in which they were quartered, from this point upward to Versailles. 

The Germans were in a country where The lines which had recently been thin 

wood is scarcer than in any other sec- were now more than necessarily strong. 

tion of Europe, with the exception of a It seemed madness for the besieged to 

few noble, ancient forests preserved by try and dislodge this enemy, confident 

the state. Stone being the exclusive from his long succession of victories and 

building material, it was only the palings, so strong in numbers, 

the oak carvings, and the furniture upon On the way from La Queue to Bondy 

which the cold and impatient soldiers we met long trains of sick and wounded 

could rely. coming back from Orleans. There were 

From La Queue-en-Brie we went to several hundred wagons tilled with poor 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



351 



fellows who seemed in every stage <>f 
mortal illness. The melancholy train 
wound its way painfully along, a few 
Uhlans riding here and there between the 
transports calmly smoking their pipes. 
Along the load we observed the field- 
telegraph service of both the Bavarian 
and Prussian armies, the Prussian line 
easily distinguishable from the others 
by its black and white slender poles, 
capable of being put down with great 
rapidity ; and the Prussians did not take 
the trouble to give it a guard, announc- 
ing in each village that any one who 
trilled with it should be shot. The Bava- 
rians built their lines more substantially, 
but also exercised very trilling precau- 
tions against its cutting. The lines had 
rarely been interrupted since they were 
placed. The majority of the soldiers 
whom we saw in Bondy had been before 
Metz, and were among the first to arrive 
in front of Paris from that point. They 
were usually stalwart, handsome men, 
dark-haired and fiery-eyed ; and we were 
told that they were one of the special 
prides of the Prussian army. 

We returned to Versailles by the first 
line of investment part of the way, finish- 
ing our journey in the third, quite in the 
rear, where the Bavarians were stationed. 
Shortly after leaving Bondy we left the 
Second corps behind us, and on our ar- 
rival at Villeneuve St. George found 
ourselves among the members of the 
Sixth Prussian corps. At Villeneuve St. 
George the Prussians had two extem- 
porized bridges across the Seine, one of 
pontoon and the other of trestle-work, 
both capable of sustaining any weight, 
and both built in a miraculously short 
time. Here, and at Villeneuve le Roi, 
was a complete overturn of houses ; 
and I do not blame the dwellers in 
Parisian suburbs for abominating the 
Germans, whom they naturally accused 



of many excesses, which were perhaps 
inevitable. 

On the way in we passed, at Wissons. 
a gigantic park of artillery, about- two 
hundred guns, which the artillerymen 
were beginning to move. We found 
that it was not wise to ask questions as 
to where those guns were going, and 
drew our own conclusions as to the 
probable commencement of the bom- 
bardment. 

In Versailles we found the customary 
programme, — funerals, serenades, horse 
exercising, patrols, concerts, and dinners 
at the Cafe de Neptune, in progress — 
exactly as we had left them. 

Not long after our tour around 1'aris 
we heard that the Prussians had entered 
Vendome, and there was a rumor that 
the French were massing for another 
outbreak in the vicinity of Champigny. 
But the attention of the Germans was 
concentrated on the bombardment, and 
endeavors at first made to conceal prepa- 
rations for it were the source of much 
misery for all journalists attached to the 
head-quarters. There was a momentary 
enlivening of the monotony of the life at 
Versailles by the creation of a ••corre- 
spondent's question." It was brought 
about by the indiscretion of some cavalry 
men, who arrested, at Etampes, one or 
two English journalists, and a gentleman 
who happened to be a Queen's commis- 
sioner. These worthy gentlemen were 
brought into Versailles tied with ropes, 
which ropes were attached to the saddles 
of their captors; and they were treated 
as common spies, and much crowded and 
hustled by onion-breathed Teutons, until 
they were able to prove their identity. 
It was rather startling, and, at the same 
time, amusing, to recognize in the French 
spies whom we had been summoned to 
see these gentlemen, who were supposed 
to be perfectly well known as neutrals 



:>.")L' EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 

and personages of distinction. Many minded the furloughed men that death 

sharp criticisms having been passed on was still their near neighbor, 

the arrogance of officers who had been The court preacher at the chapel that 

engaged in this arrest, a personage high morning chose for his text these words: 

iu authority was said to have remarked ■• The peace of God passeth all under- 

iliat. if the eorre.[ Icnts wished to standing." But the deputies and 

magnify the matter into one of inter- diplomats, who had come up from Ger- 

natioual importance, the simplest thing many, although they attended the sermon, 

would be to send them all away from paid but little attention to it. They 

head-quarters: moreover, that they had were busy with their anticipations of the 

been indiscreet in disclosing to the world royal interview. They were mainly jolly, 

the whereabouts of the cannon which beer-loving, rubicund men, from quiet 

were to convince flic Parisians of the country towns, where Paris and Vcr- 

error of resistance. sailles were popularly thought twin gates 

This teapot storm was soon over, and of Hades. There were a few noble- 

our attention was directed to the dele- looking old men, with white mustaches 

gation of members of the German par- and flowing hair, but rather awkward in 

liament, who had come up to present comparison with the more accomplished 

addresses to King William concerning military men. 

the title of Emperor of Germany, recently There was a great struggle for equi- 

offered him, on the 10th of December, pages on that day, but the most dignified 

This delegation arrived, a motley array members had to appear in a Held post- 

of black, wdiite, and gray, twenty wagon wagon; and two aged and respectable 

loads of German burghers, who carried members of Parliament were conveyed 

their festal mien into the wards of the into the royal presence in a vehicle so 

very hospitals, and whose grotesque self- much resembling a furniture-van that 

consciousness provoked bitter smiles even the officers laughed. There was a 

from the French, too well-bred to grand reception at the Prefecture, at 

indulge in open comment. On that which all the deputies were personally 

day I saw Count Bismarck in his presented to the King after the preseuta- 

carriage ; he looked ill, and seemed to tion of their addresses, and crowds 

have grown ten years older in a few gathered to see the princes roll away iu 

davs. their carriages, and Von Podbielski and 

The ISth was a gala day for the < rer- Moltke in their helmets, stem and grave ; 

mans. Thousands of soldiers thronged finally the Prefecture doors closed with 

the streets all day, and went in reluctantly a bang, and the tall sentinels began to 

when the orange sunset glow' began to pace back and forth, as if moved by 

tinge the west. There were music, wires. The King drove out shortly 

glitter of uniforms, prancing of horses, afterwards, looking extremely well ; and 

and pomp of funerals, as if Death I observed with some astonishment that 

liked to be at the feast, grinning with numbers of Frenchmen saluted him : 

the rest. Death was present in the whether it was because the title of 

morning, with his procession of forty Emperor, which they knew had just 

coffins draped with white, the Tartessian been presented for his consideration, 

colors of mourning; and the rumbling overwhelmed them, I know not. 

thunder of the guns in the distance re- In the evening eighty persons sat 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



353 



down to a dinner of great magnificence. 
On the night of the 18th there \v:is a 
terrific cannonading, which the wind 
seemed to bring nearer than usual, and 
the deputies had a genuine fright. Win- 
dows rattled in Versailles. The people 
turned out in great excitement to dis- 
cover what was going on. The King, ii 
was said, desired to accept the Emperor's 
diadem, but wished to run the gauntlet 
of a vote in the Chambers first- 
Winter now came in earnest. The 
great pond and fountain basins in the 
palace gardens were ice-bound. The 
officers had taken to their fur cloaks. 
and the princes, who had dawdled to and 
fro in the long avenues on their well- 
groomed horses, now scurried away to 
breakfast in the shabby hacks still left 
in Versailles. No less than six vigorous 
attempts had been made by the French 
to break out, the most signal effort being 
made near the edge of the forest of 
Bondy, when; the positions had received 
a wonderful strengthening since the 
Champigny fight. The artillery practice 
of the Prussian guns in the vicinity of 
St. Cloud was exceedingly good, and 
one battery especially distinguished it- 
self. 

A few days before Christmas the non- 
combatants at Versailles were treated to 
a novel sensation, to be expected in 
war time, but somewhat startling after 
the dub icss of head- quarters' life. While 
chatting quietly witli a friend in his own 
apartments, in the Place Hoche, 1 ob- 
served the sudden appearance of a body 
of cavalry in the square, and at the same 
time the people of the house came run- 
ning to tell us that a band of soldiers 
was mounting the stall's. The officer 
in charge arrived, curt and suspicious, 
posted sentries at all the exits, and we 
were shortly desired to state whether or 
not we had any concealed weapons. 



Convincing the officer that we had none, 
we were released, and learned from one 
of the soldiers that they were looking 
after Francs-Tireurs ; from another, that 
weapons only w r ere the object of the 
search : and from a third, what proved 
to be true, that a conspiracy for a revolt 
within Versailles had been discovered, 
and that there was a general search for 
the weapons which were to have done 
the enemy damage. At almost the same 
minute in the same hour every house 
in the town was entered, and searched 
from cellar to garret. At the Hotel 
des Reservoirs, the head-quarters of 
hundreds of officers, correspondents, 
and diplomats, a young lieutenant of 
nineteen had taken charge, anil told 
tlic rotund and rubicund landlord that 
if lie found anything suspicious in his 
cellar he would have him shot in his 
own court-yard. But this excessive 
wrath on the part of the baby officer 
only provoked a. smile from flic host. A 
large collection of arms was actually 
found in Versailles; and in one of the 
houses, where an old lady solemnly de- 
clared that she had never had a weapon 
of any kind under her roof, an acute 
soldier stuck his bayonet into the ceiling 
and three guns dropped down. Some 
enterprising German had set on foot a 
Story that a band of desperadoes had 
concocted a plan to cany oil the King, 
Counts Moltke and Bismarck, and all 
the other important personages, and offer 
them in exchange for immediate and 
unconditional peace. Ridiculous as this 
story seemed, it found general cre- 
dence among tlic rank and tile of the < ler- 
niaus. who professed great indignation, 
'flu- new I.andwehrsineii coining up 
from Germany about this time were the 
best specimens of soldiers that we had 
seen. They looked as if they had been 
created by some fairy expressly for the 



■A:>i 



VUROl'E IN STORM AND CALM. 



occasion. I here was one regiment of 
tin 1 Laudwehrsmen of the Guard sta- 
tioned not far from Versailles, in which 
the fathers owned to sewn thousand 
and tlncc children, a. little incur than 
three apiece. From this one? may im- 
agine the number of Christmas-boxes 
which had been coming by the field post 
for thr ten d.iys before the great festi- 
val. 

•■ Our October Ares now flicker before 
Paris," boastfully said the German 
press, while the last glimmer of autumn 
sunset was falling athwart the spin's 
of Notre Dame. Neither German press 

nor people expeeted that the Decem- 
ber Ares would send up their sparks 
around extemporized Christmas-trees 
in the camps before Paris ; but, when 

it was found that the siege was to 
he long, tile goo,] wives at home 
made ample provision for their absent 
husbands, fathers, and brothers, and 
enormous trains bringing the gifts of 
love came lolling through Strasbourg 
and Nancy and Epernay, and up to 
Lagny, where they discharged their 
comforting freight every day into the 
provision wagons, which moved with 
the same discipline that marked the 
conduct of the whole army. The result 
was. that, by the arrival of Christmas- 
tide, the thousands upon thousands of 
Germans were provided with the ma- 
terial for t\iv same festivities that they 
would have held at home. 

The chorus of the guns of Paris on 
Christmas Eve was superb. Through 
the clear, frosty air the grand bayiug 
and harking of the dogs of war echoed 
so loudly that it almost drowned the 
chorals of the jolly Weiuuacht songs 
that the few Germans who had been 
allowed to leave their regiments and 

dine at head-ijuarteis were permitted 

to siuu. Parties of officers who had 



been permitted to leave their bad food 
and wretched lodgings in the deserted 
towns around the besieged capital 
came in to thaw out over bottles of wine 
or bowls of punch. Few, if any, boast- 
ful allusions were made in these parties 
to the victories gained over the French. 
The stout Landwehr regiments in the 
neighborhood, which had as many Christ- 
mas-trees as companies, hail their pres- 
ents distributed by the hands of their 
officers. The festivities were simple 
and hearty. A large room in some de- 
serted house was chosen for each com- 
pany, and there the tree was placed and 
the candles were lighted ; songs and 
recitations made up the balance of the 
entertainment. Most of the soldiers 
at the outposts had wine to drink. In 
town the day was Celebrated at the 
Prefecture and at the residence of the 
Crown Prince. At the King's there 
were two Christmas-trees, and some of 
the presents given and received by the 
royal family were of great value. The 
Crown Prince distributed the gifts from 
his tree with his own hands. Much 
gossip was excited by the absence of 
the Duke of Saxe Coburg from the 
assembly of the other royal personages. 
lie was the only exception, and the 
gossips attributed it to various causes. 
among others to the fact that he had 
made unpleasant remarks concerning 
the conduct of the Saxons in the Cham- 
pigny light: while others claimed that 
he was moping, because there had once 
been talk of making him Emperor of 
Germany, and that now the crown had 
passed forever from his grasp. He. 
was in command, like Bismarck, of a 
regiment of cuirassiers, but was little 
with it. 

The only thing which broke the se- 
renity of the next day in the town was 
the wailing of military bauds as the 



EUROPE IN STORM AM> CALM. 



:i. r ». r i 



dead from the hospitals were borne to 
their graves. On the evening of the 
25th there were, of course, dinners and 
feasting, despite the fact that the French 
had been swarming by Bougival, and 
that the cannon had spoken thunder- 
ously all da}'. 

Within the great park one of the most 
singular sights was the sport of the gayly 
uniformed soldiers on the newly made, 
but firm, ice on the canal. Hundreds of 
officers, who had sent to Germany for 
their skates, or who had found some in the 
town, were frolicking like very boys on 



the ice. This canal is one of the chief 
beauties of Versailles, and when it is 
frozen it makes a magnificent skating 
park. It is nearly five thousand feet 
long, and about two hundred feet wide. 
Louis XIV. often transformed it into a 
Venetian scene in summer, and had some- 
times as many as two hundred gondolas, 
illuminated with glass lamps of all colors 
upon it. Here, too, he had his artificial 
sunsets, his gigantic fireworks, and his 
mimic sea-fights ; and in winter, when the 
weather was sharp enough, he aped 
Russian splendor. 



356 EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT. 

"Tin' Point of View." — The Campaign in the South. — The Phantom Mobile. — New Year's Day. — 
Scene at tlir Palace. The Bombardment of Paris. — Between the Fires in Front of Fort Issy. — 
In the Batteries. — Coronation of King William of Prussia as Emperor of Germany at Versailles, 

THE <>M year went out in the midst his first walk over the field of Beaugeney. 

of alarms and disappointed hopes He said that piles of frozen corpses, 

for the unhappy French of Versailles, scattered hither and yon, impressed him 

and gloom and intense suffering for tin- even more than did the groans and 

hundreds of thousands of the besieged shrieks of those who were still living, and 

within the walls of Paris. It was liit- to whom no help could lie given for 

terly cold in December. Tin- environs hours. While passing a heap of Mobile 

of I'aiis air rarely visited by a heavy Guards, who hail evidently hern killed 

snow fall, hut the snow came with the all at once, and nearly every one of 

war ami the siege, as if no source of whom was vigorously grasping his gun, 

misery were to be left untried. he saw one handsome fellow lying so 

When tin' first snow fell, a French quietly pallid in the cold moonlight that 
friend of mire, in Versailles, said, he was tempted to approach and note 
" Thank God for this ! It will kill thou- his rank. II was a young soldier, hold- 
sands of the Germans ! " That afternoon, ing in his stiffened hand a gun labelled 
during a ride to the outposts, I saw a •• N.Y.U.S A." lie said that he removed 
stout Laudwehrsman hugging himself the cap from the corpse's head, and, un- 
with joy. ami saying, "Thank God for clinching the cold fingers, took the gun, 
this clear, cold weather! Now we can and carried away these souvenirs to 
work." Versailles. He affirmed seriously that, 

In this, as in so many other c.-ises. for live nights afterwards, he was awa- 

the '• point of view" was everything. kened regularly, at the same hour, by 

There was rough business in the South, the grasp of a relentless hand upon his 

Huge ambulance trains went out every arm. and felt that he was struggling with 

morning towards Orleans, and along the an invisible force. •• It was," he said, 

line of march towards Beaugency. In " the dead Garde Mobile trying to get 

all the little towns on the route we saw his gun back again ! 
sights which made the blood curdle. The Bavarians were said to have lost 

Both French and Germans had perished thirty thousand men out of an army corps 

by hundreds, for lack of proper care, which went into the southern campaign 

The German sisters from the Bavarian thirty-five thousand strong. This was 

Catholic convents did much to alleviate doubtless exaggerated, but the mortality 

the sufferings of thousands of pour was tremendous. The South German 

wretches. We saw men who were half States suffered heavily in losses of both 

frozen from exposure over-night on the officers and soldiers. The Bavarians, in 

battle-field, and I shall not soon forget fact, as a fighting corps, seemed to have 

an anecdote which a friend told me of been pretty well blotted out at one time ; 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



357 



and when allusion was made to the fact 
that General You der Tann had gone to 
the support of some other army, the 
Prussians were puzzled to know whether 
it meant that he had gone alone or taken 
the tiny remains of his legions with him. 

But the Bavarians took death as they 
took life, very easily, and it is to lie said 
for them that they bore with strength 
and patience a combination of ills which 
would have killed less sturdy and more 
fastidious men. The French constantly 
accused them of ferocity and cruelty, and 
these stories doubtless arose from the 
merciless repression of Francs-Tireurs, 
or the peasants who, without thinking it 
necessary to join the regular soldiei'y, 
took their guns in their hands and de- 
fended their homes. It seems clear that 
dozens of these men were shot in cold 
blood, simply as examples, during the 
campaign round about Orleans. It was 
woe to the unlucky blue blouse seen 
ljehind a loop-holed wall or at a third- 
story window. The French took occasion 
to massacre a large number of Bavarians, 
whom they found in a tight place, not 
long after this practice of shooting the 
Francs-Tireurs began ; and it was an- 
nounced at Versailles that General 
C'hanzy had said at Le Mans that he 
would give no quarter to the enemy. 

New Year's Day at head-quarters passed 
quietly enough. Several hundred officers 
came into the old town from the various 
commands around Paris, and made up 
little parties, celebrating in the clumsy, 
but humorous. German way the advenl 
of the new twelvemonth. In the Cafe 
de Neptune, just, at midnight, there was 
a great gathering of these officers, and 
as the clock on the marble mantel struck 
twelve, the oldest of the company arose, 
and, tilling all glasses from a bowl 
of steaming punch, said. "Gentlemen, 
brother officers, it is just twelve o'clock." 



Then all cried out : " Long live the New 
Year!" and a general hand-shaking 
followed. Some insisted on bonnet- 
ing their friends, remembering that in 
Germany, if you are caught in the street 
after twelve on New Year's Eve, you are 
likely to have your hat smashed over 
your eyes. 

Just as the festivities at the Crown 
Prince's quarters were at their height, 
and the Crown Prince had risen to wel- 
come in the youthful year, the hoarse 
roar of a far-off salute broke the silence. 
There had been but little cannonading 
during the day, and when this sud- 
den boom of the cannon was heard by 
the German officers they involuntarily 
looked for their swords, and then looked 
at each other. But no sortie was taking 
place. The salute which was just upon 
the stroke of midnight was the funeral 
salvo which Paris was tiring over the 
grave of the disastrous year. For miles 
around, the twelve double-shotted volleys 
were heard ; and then there was silence 
again. 

The officers made grand toilettes for 
New Year's Day, and called to pay com- 
pliments to the King and their respective 
generals in the early morning. New 
regiments of clean, and, as yet, untried, 
soldiers came marching in before dawn, 
and the Versaillais had for their etrennes 
of the new year a liberal supply of live 
aud hungry Prussians. I was invited to 
breakfast on this morning of January 1st 
with a French lawyer of distinction, who 
lived in a comfortable house in the Place 
Hoche,andat eleven o'clock I knocked at 
his hospitable door, and was received with 
a smiling face. 

"Let us," said my host, " make an 
effort to forget the circumstances in 
which we are placed, and celebrate the 
advent of the year with something like 
joy." 



:?. r >8 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

lie led the way I" the dining-room, rare tact, did not \v:i it, for coffee and 

where the snowy cloth of the great round cigars, but excused himself and politely 

table was loaded with sparkling glasses, departed. 

with fat bottles in wicker baskets, with Knowing- the French temperament, 1 

fruit, with cordials, and with a goodly waited with interest the explosion which 

array of family silver. This was a I felt must come; and, after the Prus- 

tempting sight to one who had been for sian had closed the door behind him, and 

weeks accustomed to the meagre fare gone jingling down the stairs, my friend 

of the restaurants of Versailles and the caught up the glass, the plate, the bottle 

camps near by ; for it must not be sup- from which he hail drank, and threw 

posed that good food was easily obtain- them, crashing, into a corner; then sat 

able at the German head-quarters towards down with a pitiful face, ami burst into 

the close of the siege. It was almost tears. It was hard and cruel to bear, 

impossible to get it. no doubt; but his trials were as naught 

But the gods were unkind on this the beside those of the besieged " out there 

first day of the new year, and we were beyond," as he said, and. regaining his 

scarcely seated opposite each other at calm, he hoped for better days, 

table when the door-bell rang and the The Prussians made liberal use of the 

servant, returning with a white face, said, old palace of Louis XIV. for their 

•"A Prussian."' My host's, face was white, stately ceremonies; and on this New 

too, but he was too well-bred to make Year's Day, in the Salle des (ibices, all 

any remark. He arose and left the room, the nobles of Germany gathered to- 

presently returning with a tall, elegantly gether. The venerable King seemed to 

uniformed, distinguished-looking German enjoy his visits to the palace on such 

officer, who made the stiff military salute occasions, and after the receptions at 

to which we were so well accustomed, the Prefecture he and his brilliant 

and apologized for what was, he said, the cortige attended service at the chapel. 

" unwilling intrusion." But he had been The King was made uncomfortable by a 

very anxious to see the old palace before very vigorous preacher, who insisted that 

the campaign was over, and had obtained monarchs often erred on the side of 

this day a leave of absence, and his billet leniency. We interpreted this to mean 

had sent him here for breakfast and din- that the Germans at home were getting 

uer. Would the gentlemen excuse him ? impatient to hear details of the horrors 

And here, my friend, making a virtue of of the bombardment. But when we 

necessity, placed him a chair at the table ; said this to the Germans whom we 

and. daintily removing his white gloves, knew, they were highly indignant. 

the officer sat down. Amid the relics of France's ancient 

It was an icy moment, and one which splendor an assembly crowded to hear 

awoke all my sympatbry for mine host; the King's address. There, where all 

but we made the best of the situation, the wealth of Le Prim's coloring had 

the German even disclosing a partial been bestowed on the portrayal of the 

talent for English and naturally avoiding great monarch's glories ; where the pla- 

all mention of current events. The break- fond was covered with such painted 

fast was eaten, the wine was drunk in flattery that even Frenchmen blushed at 

cool and stately civility, and the officer, the vanity of one of their race; there, 

who was a gentleman, and possessed of where Louis once had his throne brought, 



EUROPE IN STOR.V AXP CALM. 



359 






that he might sit upon it as the ambas- last arrived. The natives of Versailles 

sailor of the King of Persia sank on his kept asking each other: How al t the 

knees before him, now stood the King of bombardment? Why does it not com- 
Prussia in full general's uniform, withthe mence? But it had already commenced, 
Crown Prince, the Prince Friedrich Karl, and the Prussians had begun their 
with the chief admiral of the navy, steady task of reducing the outworks of 
Prince Adelbert. The scene was one of the capital. The Germans, from the first, 
dazzling splendor, and the Prussian expected an increase of losses on their 
uniforms harmonized well 
with the gilding and the 
rainbow colors of the 
royal palace. The floor, 
inlaid with rare and finely 
labored woods, so that 
the effect of light and 
shade upon it is to make 
it look like the surface of 
a transparent pond, or 
some delicately tessellated 
marble pavement in a Ro- 
man church, — this floor 
fairly startled some of the 
Prussians who had never 
before entered the hall, 
and they seemed to be 
uncomfortable lest their 
dainty boots should be 
wetted. One or two of 
them went sprawling, for 
waxed parquets are diffi- 
cult to walk upon, (hit- 
side, trumpets brayed, gay 
horses pranced, and court- 
ly men bowed low as 
the future Emperor left 
the Palace after having 
listened to compliments from the hun- 
dreds of courtiers and foreign diplo- 
mats present. In the evening, at the 







- 






dinner at the Prefecture, the ( Irani! Dulu 



own side when 
they attacked 
t li e angry 
forts, and a 
day or two 
after the first 
cannon were 
fired from the 
a d v a n c e d 
Prussian bat- 
teries, a thousand additional hospital 
beds were ordered in Versailles. The 
.silence of Forts Rosny, Noisy. Ro- 
mainville, and Aubervilliers, after the 



THE FRENCH TROOPS ABANDONING THE 
PLATEAU AT AVRON, 



of Badeu made a speech, in which he reduction of Mont Avron, was much 
alluded to the Imperial Crown, which, commented on, and the Prussians were 
as Frederick William IV. had said, mystified by it. The Germans did not 
should only be worn on the field of reject as entirely ridiculous the state- 
battle, mentthat the forts might be mined, and 
The " psychological moment " had at it might lie a very costly experiment to 



360 EVROPB IX STORM AND CALM. 

assault and occupy them. By and by which the Prussians called au iron-clad 

the batteries which the Saxons had been fort. But presently we saw that the 

building on the crests of Raincy began smoke was not within Paris walls. It 

to play upon the forts. The Saxons seemed in direct line with the Arch, hut 

intended to accomplish a double purpose was caused by the burning of the village 

atonce, — to disorganize the advance forts of Boulogne, opposite St. (loud, on the 

near them 1 > v a regular bombardment by Seine bank. With the field-glass we 

their batteries on the right, and to rain could see trains crowded with soldiers or 

down shells from the plain of Avron on the double-decked cars rattling alongthe 

the hl't. so that the French could not Ceiuture railway, and being transferred 

maintain their outworks. The batteries to the eastern side. Crash came defiant 

at Chelles, Noisy, La Pelouse, and other notes from Issy. and presently noises 

points near bv, crossed their tires at were heard above our heads. The Prus- 

Avron ; and it seemed a perfect Inferno sian rilled cannon were throwing shells, 

on the plains for some hours. and we could track their course. Sud- 

The French had been constructing a denly they would become small as birds, 

huge entrenched camp here, hut their and then lost to view. Once we saw 

plans were broken up bv this furious three alight in Fort Issy at once. There 

shell tire of the Saxons. Avion was very was a silence ai g the French gunners 

strongly fortified, particularly towards for some minutes; then the angry defl- 
the east. There the French had three ance began again, and we were corn- 
rows of batteries, one above the other, pelled hastily to shift our position, 
and many of the cannon were of enor- The German gunners were determined 
nious calibre. The stillness of Forts to hit the great viaduct, which stood 
Noisy and Rosny, after the retreat so prominent and tempting a mark just 
from Avron, was regarded by the Prus- outside the walls of Auteuil ; hut they 
sians as a conclusive proof that the siege never succeeded. 1 was told at the 

was near its cud. " If ," they Said, " we close of the siege that the Parisians 

could occupy those forts, we could very went every Sunday to make excursions 

soon send shells into Belleville and La along the circular railway to this viaduct, 

Villette." which was covered with trains, from 

From New Year's Day until the great which thousands of people were eudeav- 

Hortie of Montretout, the cannonading oring to gel a glance at the Prussians, 

was almost incessant . Everyday brought none of them having the slightest fear 

its alarm; every day its picturesque of the Teutonic projectiles, 

event ; every day, for us, its long ride or Between one of the principal Prussian 

walk to the batteries or to little coigns batteries and Fort Issy, quite in the open, 

of vantage, from which, we i Id see stood a house, always held by a certain 

something of the tremendous timil oper- number of stout-hearted soldiers, and 

ation of the siege. Riding towards [ssy sen ing as an obervation post for officers, 

one morning, and looking out over Paris, This was not a tranquil place, for the 

we saw (all black columns of smoke Prussian shells went whizzing and moan- 

risino- apparently to the Triumphal Arch, ing above one's head, and once every 

The arch towered up, mistily defined in minute came the whirring response from 

the distance, ami with a field-glass we the French embrasures. If the gunners 

could observe the construction on its top in Issy had desired to shorten their range 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



361 



and let fall a shower of missiles on this 
house they could do so at uny moment. 
But they preferred to expend their fire. 
upon the battery beyond, and so one 
was perhaps safer between the lires than 
he could possibly have been either in 
fort or battery. 

Here we came one morning, ami nar- 
rowly escaped being shot by the excited 
soldier at the door before we could show 
our permission, and before we could 
make ourselves heard by an officer, but 
finally we were admitted. I was struck 
with the coolness of the commanding 
officer at this difficult post. He had the 
veritable spirit of a Brandenburg pirate ; 
and while the shells were crashing above 
and around he opened a bottle of wine, 
and invited us to partake, telling, mean- 
time, with pride how his soldiers had re- 
cently made the. discovery of several 
hundred bottles of Chateau Margaux 
in one cellar. "Your Bavarian," he 
said, with a smile, " has an antiquarian 
taste in wine, and we can always trust 
him to probe the cellars of the ch&teaux 
around." 

This officer looked upon war. by his 
own confession, as a brilliant episode in 

life, one which called out the best of a 
man's energies, and lie saw no reason to 
quarrel with it as abnormal or cruel. He 
had the veritable Prussian training, the' 
hard-hearted, sceptical way of looking 
at things in accordance with his own 
system and that of his race, of consider- 
ing everything reasonable and proper 
which suited his own cuds. As tor out- 
siders. r/ff/V In In, ,,ll>< .' 

On the 13th of January we were told 
that twenty-six German batteries had 
been playing until late in the evening 
upon various quarters of Paris. The 
Bavarians were attacked by the French 
early in the day; but the enemy was 
repelled, Humor said that the French 



had swarmed out over the bridge of Pas 
Meudon at early morning, but while 
they were crossing, the Prussian bat- 
teries opened a deadly lire upon them, 
and the bridge giving way precipitated 
a large number of soldiers into the 
Seine. 

Inside Paris the vigorous bombard- 
ment which was now covering a wide 
district on the left bank of the Seine 
was producing its sad effect. The 
Hopital de la Pitie was riddled with 
bombshells on the night of the 8th of 
January from the heights of Chatillon 
and from Meudon. The Prussians 
seemed deliberately bombarding the 
venerable public institutions of the great 
capital, — the hospitals, the churches, the 
colleges, universities, the schools of 
medicine and art. 

It was not'strange that a cry went up 
through all Europe, a cry of horror and 
reproach, and that it almost startled the 
Germans into a change of policy. 

Put they soon became impervious 
to criticism. They pleaded the impe- 
rious necessity of war as an excuse for 
bombarding tin- vast city crowded with 
helpless women and children ; so they 
sent shells in showers for two months 
into one of the most thickly populated 
sections of Paris. The church of St. 
Sulpice, the Sorbonne, the Val de Grace, 
were all struck by shells. Ill a school in 
the Km' de Vaugirard four children 
were killed and live wounded by a 
single shell. The Luxembourg Museum 
was evacuated. The physicians of the 
hospital of the Fnfants Malades issued 
a protest, declaring that the innocent 
children would be slain in their beds. 
The authorities at the Jardin des Plantes 
voted an inscription lobe engraved on 
one of the buildings of their celebrated 
museum, stating that the garden founded 
by Louis XIII. had been bombarded 



302 EUROPE l.\ STORM AND CALM. 

under tli<' reign of William I., King of out in expectation of a grand sortie,, 

Prussia. which would be the closing effort of the 

In the cellars of Montronge were siege, and perhaps of the war. This feel- 
hundreds of frightened refugees. To ing was in the air on the morning of the 
the o-reat vaults of the historic Pantheon 19th, which had been selected as a date for 
came the living to crowd beside t lie the ceremony of King William's accept- 
noted dead, who were there entombed; auce of the Imperial dignity conferred 
and, during the whole twenty-five days upon him by the German nations, now 
of the bombardment, a terrible period to be welded and unified into one, and 
which there is no space properly to under the influence of their ancient tradi- 
describe here, every day brought its tion to accept an empire as the type of 
horror and its sacrifice of human life. their new community. Some of the Prus- 

Meaiitime old Fort Issy, which had sian officers were heard to say. oil the 

been so conspicuous from the first, kept morning of the 19th, that it was a good 

up its reputation. It was inspiring to thing to get the ceremony over, as there 

witness the defense of this place. The would be sharp wink shortly. There 

marine artillery was there submitted to was, indeed, sharp work two days later, 

an almost crushing lire from the German when the great outpouring of Montretout 

batteries, and held out from first to last took place; but alas! it was not des- 

magniliceiitlv under the plunging shells fined to profit the French who wasted 

from Clamart, from Chatillo'n, from Men- their heroism in vain efforts against, the 

don. These marines, after their casemates ever-re-strengthened line of the enemy, 

had been smashed into muddy fragments The day selected was noteworthy in 

and the stones had been all knocked Prussian minds for three things : first, for 

about by bombs, would drag out their being the anniversary of the crowning of 

fifteen cannons, hitching themselves to Frederick the Great ; second, the birth- 

tlie pieces, and tugging them forward, day of the eldest child of the Crown 

firing, screaming like savages as they Prince; and third, as -'Order Day," 

fired, then dragging back their guns when all princes and officers decorated 

under the shelter of the half-dismantled on previous occasions for conspicuous 

parapets. Inthisfortof Issy one bun- gallantry are wont to pass before their 

dred men were killed, and a great royal master in review and receive his 

number were wounded by shells, and of felicitations. Here, indeed, was an oppor- 

foiir hundred who fell ill of cold, hunger, tunity for a tine pageant, and one which 

anil want of sleep, three-quarters died might have roused the pride and vain- 

shortly after the capitulation. glory of a nation more susceptible of 

By the time of the completion of the vanity than the (ieniian. Despite the 

second parallel in front of Fort Ism all apprehensions of coining slaughter, the 

the non-combatants at Versailles who recent victories in the south and the 

wereallowed the privilege of going outside apparent success in other sections of 

the towns were intensely interested in the France had put the helmeted warriors in 

great duel between the German besiegers a good humor with themselves, and so 

and these vigorous defenders of their they seemed to give themselves up to 

position. The desperate energy of the enjoyment. 

marines in Issy led gradually up to the The day was a strange mixture of 

conclusion that all the forts were holding damp and cold, with occasional gleams 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CM. SI. 



of warm sunshine, the rain coming down, 

as it were, to weep over the dead, and 
then the sun chasing away the tears as 
unworthy of so great an occasion. 
Towards ten o'clock a brilliant throng 
began to assemble in the court-yard of 
the palace, and increased steadily in 
brilliancy and volume until the stroke 
of twelve, when the King, preceded 
by guards and outriders, drove to the 
doors of the great middle hall, enter- 
ing the court-yard from the Rue des 
Reservoirs. About eleven I found drawn 
up in line the King's body guard, taken 
from all the best regiments of the army, 
and glittering in a hundred colors, 
strongly contrasted. Thronging past 
these lines of warriors were the invited 
guests of higher rank, hastily returning 
the salutations of hundreds of hands 
embodying with accustomed servility 
the expression of their humbleness. 
Many of the Bavarian and Wurtemburg 
officers had for the first time got out 
their gala uniforms, which had so long 
been packed in camp-chests that they 
were all creased, and even soiled and tar- 
nished, and some of the stately gentle- 
men of the German court presented a 
rather sorry figure. The Bavarian sol- 
diers were, for a wonder, especially 
line in their bright-blue uniforms and 
shining helmets, and some of the officers 
were men of majestic presence. The 
Saxons were, as usual, spotless in raiment. 
The gigantic men of the Guard corps 
stalked about in their white uniforms 
and jack-boots. The dark-haired, stal- 
wart Brandenburger ; the Berliuers, 
with spectacles on nose ; the strap- 
ping cavalry men, with iron crosses on 
their breasts; and the slender youths, 
with long hair combed back under 
their casques, and swords buckled on 
their slender thighs, — all hastened 
to the hall where the greatest Prus- 



sian ceremony of modern times was to 
occur. 

Around the statue of Louis XIV. a 
Curious crowd of civilians and soldiers 
had gathered, and the gendarmes had 
allowed them to remain there. Few 
French people were present. A crazy 
old woman ran hither and yon for sonic 
time, cursing everybody and begging 
from everybody; but her curses and 
entreaties passed comparatively unno- 
ticed in the greater excitement of the 
moment. An odd spectacle was the 
pedestal of the statue of Bayard, with a 
lot of Prussian soldiers sitting dangling 
their legs from it. One could almost 
imagine the old hero looking with scorn 
upon the enemies below him. Two lines 
of soldiers — boys, but superb figiues, 
perfectly trained boys — were formed in 
the squares in the vicinity of the en- 
trance of the Salle des ( J laces, and there 
military bands were stationed to salute 
the coming King. The German banner, 
we observed, was now Moating where 
latterly the red-cross Hag alone had 
been seen above the portico of the palace. 
The wounded soldiers crowded to the 

windows to see the spectacle, and their 
pale faces were the only vision of war 
which thrust its ghastly presence upon us. 
Presently the guests began to arrive 
pellmell. There was not much attempt 
at glory of equipage, as in campaigning 
it is difficult to obtain good carriages. 
Von Moltke came in a post-carriage 
which was splashed with mud ; Von Bis- 
marck in a little caleche, to which two 
diminutive ponies were attached : the 
Crown Prince in his modest coupe" ; and 
dozens of officers in full toilette were 
caught in a pouring shower, which sud- 
denlv visited us. Half-a-dozen princes 
would dash up in an omnibus, which they 
had happily discovered at the last mo- 
ment ; and the historic furniture-van, 



:w;i EURorE in storm and calm. 

which plaved such an important rdle in courtiers, he must have reflected a mo- 
the transportation of potentates, military ment on the mutability of human great- 
and political, in Versailles, again came ness and on the future of tho country 
r into play. Great precautions were taken with which he as an old man could have 
I'm' the safety of the King. Stout sol- but little to do. Solemnly to accept the 
dicrs wandered carelessly about in the German crown when he could not swear 
crowd, lint with their guns held as a long to uphold the Empire even by his 
huntsman holds his when he hears the sword and word must have seemed to 
deer breaking cover. How did the him like mockery. To place it on his 
Prussians know how far French fanati- brows at the end instead of the beginning 
cism might venture? It only went far of his long and stately career, as he 
enough, to my knowledge, mysteriously paused before the gate of Paris, about 
to suggest that the' last time that a to enter that great capital for the second 
great public gathering was held in the time as a victor, could not. however. 
Salle des (daces it had been found nee- have been without a certain consolation, 
essary to prop the floor, so weak' with In the middle of the grand hall, and with 
age it had become. But we may fairly its back to the windows opening on the 
presume that the Germans, with their park, tin altar was elected. Upon this 
talent for investigation, had carefully altar, gracefully decorated, lighted can- 
examined the parquet of the time of dies were placed, and at each side sat 
Louis XIV. Prince George of Saxony three pastors, clothed in the sombre 
was one of the most noticeable in the habiliments of their order, and symbol- 
crowd of notables ; and around him was i/.iug the support of the Church to the 
:i brilliant assemblage of officers. new Empire. Farther down the hall 
All along the Avenue de Paris and the was another and smaller altar, and in 
Place d'A rmes, as the King came rattling front of this were arranged the standards 

fr the Prefecture to the palace, arose of all the regiments of the third army. 

deafening shouts of "Hurrah for the Between the two altars were placed 

Emperor ! ' The guard along the grand Bavarians and other soldiers. In front 

staircase which led to the Salle des of the principal altar were several sol- 

( daces was composed of picked men diers, who had, in times past or in recent 

from the various regiments around Paris, campaigns, received two iron crosses, and 

Visibly affected by the magnificent spec- two of them had their heads bound up. 

tacle before him. the old King wandered and showed other marks of ugly wi unds. 

into the great room like one scarcely On the platform at the farther end of 

daring to believe that the splendors the gallery many soldiers were stationed 

before him were real : and dining the upholding standards. 

whole cereinonv he was profoundly The King was preceded by the mar- 
moved, and listened with the air of one shal of his household and the court mar- 
surprised, and continually questioning shal, the Counts of Pucklen and Per- 
himself as to what it all meant. poucher, and followed by Prince George 
One hundred and seveuty years before of Saxony, the reigning Duke of Saxe 
Frederick I. had put on the crown des- C'oburg, and the majority of the heredi- 
tined to such prominence in history, taiv princes. Beside these, as they 
As King William entered the hall where look their places in front of the grand 
Louis XIV. had been wont to receive his altar, were also the Crown Prince, 



EUROPE LV STORM AND CALM. 



365 



Prince Charles of Prussia, the King's 
brother and Grand Master of the Order 
of St. John of Jerusalem, the Grand 
Dukes of Saxe Weimar, Oldenburg, and 
Baden, the Duke of Saxe Meiningen, 
the Duke of Saxe AltenlJurg, Princes 
Luitpold ami Otho of Bavaria, Prince 
"William and Duke Eugene of Wurtem- 
burg, Leopold of Hohenzollern, who had 
unwittingly provoked the war, and the 
Duke of Holstein. The old King, bolt 
upright, and from time to time gazing 
with childlike curiosity upon the scene, 
listened intently to the sermon which one 
of the preachers now delivered with 
much grace and eloquence. The sermon 
touched upon the historic and religious 
character of the ceremony now in prog- 
ress, and endeavored to describe its 
mysterious influence on the hearts of 
the German nation. It was a fine 
tribute as well to the new subject of ado- 
ration, the venerable hero soldier; and 
the King was deeply affected by it. 

Von Bismarck and Von Moltke mean- 
time, one on each side of the platform, 
winked sleepily and wickedly, and 
seemed inwardly much amused at all 
this parade. General Blumenthal, also 
near at hand, with the commanding gen- 
erals and officers of all grades grouped 
about him, was grimly silent, and ap- 
peared to consider the whole thing a 
waste of time. In long rows down each 
side of the gallery were the distin- 
guished military and civil personages 
from all nations of Europe. 

Tin' sermon finished, a general buzz 
of congratulation was just springing up 
in the hall when the King suddenly 
advanced to the platform, and there, 
surrounded by the standard-bearers of 
the first Guard regiment, he pronounced 



Ins address to the princes, in which lie 
declared his intention of accepting the 
Imperial German Crown. After he had, 
with faltering voice, finished his vow. 
Bismarck advanced tranquilly to read 
the proclamation to the German people. 
This was, so far as Bismarck was con- 
cerned, the culmination of the war; the 
unification of the German people under 
the rule of one man was accomplished. 
No wonder such a gigantic task had made 
a diplomat already ripe in years look 
almost as old as his master. 

After the reading of the proclamation 
the Grand Duke of Baden, who seemed 
to have been adopted as spokesman on 
most occasions, hailed the King as Em- 
peror of Germany. A three-times-three 
awoke the echoes which had been lying 
perdu for two centuries, and the Crown 
Prince hastened to embrace his father 
and affectionately to grasp his hand. 
His example was followed by all the 
members of the Royal Family and all 
the princes and dukes present. When 
the ceremony was finished, there were 
tears on the old King's face, and many 
of the lookers-on were visibly moved. 
Amid the waving of standards, flags 
which had been in all the early battles 
of the present war. and the echoes of 
the national hymn and triumphal 
marches, the brilliant assembly broke 
up and drove away in its hundreds of 
carriages, splendid and shabby, to the 
task of eating the dinner in celebration 
of "Orders Day." At the Hotel des 
Reservoirs and other fashionable res- 
taurants there was riotous merriment, 
and tin' word " Kaiser" echoed through 
the street, and in all places where uni- 
forms were visible, until long past mid- 
night. 



366 EUROl'E IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE. 

Bourbaki and Belfort. — The Final Sortie of the French. — Montretout. — The Panic i" Versailles.— 

Tin- Treaty for Pearc. The End of the yiegc of Paris. 

WHERE is Bourbaki?" was a fre- battle to the French at Pont>Noyelles 
quent question at the German and at Bapaume. where there was a 
head-quarters in the days just before the great slaughter of German squadrons 
great fight at Montretout. A certain and cavalry, and where Faidherbe, with 
portion of the army under his command reason, claimed success; but the closing 
seemed to be lost sight <>f, and caused the of most of the northern fortresses by the 
Germans no little uneasiness. The first German army was finally successful, 
siege of Belfort had been checked by The Seventh corps besieged Thionville ; 
the proximity of a part of Bourbaki's the first bombarded Mezieres with the 
army, and the invaders naturally thought siege cannon which it had taken from 
that the object of the wily Frenchman the French at Montmedy. Mezieres 
was to raise the siege of this fortress, surrendered ; Peronne was bombarded 
which was defended with such heroic and capitulated ; Rocroi gave up ; 
valor, and to bring into active use the Charleville was disarmed ; and Belfort 
great supply of munitions shut up within was undergoing a bombardment, in corn- 
it. Every conceivable supposition was parison with which that of Paris was 
indulged in at head-quarters. Now it feeble. Yet the Germans, to the very 
was said that Bourbaki intended to leave moment of the surrender of the forts in 
Belfort to attack the communications front of Paris, were oppressed with fears 
line, and now to slip away into Ger- lest out of the north might come a 
many, and begin a war of reprisal-;, crushing blow to check them just as they 
But many had already begun to consider were at the moment of their supreme 
him as sharing the incompetency of some triumph. 

of his brothers in office, because he had So predisposed, indeed, were the in- 

not improved his brilliant opportunities, vaders toa panic-, thai, when the last and 

The French anus had not been crowned despairing effort of the besiegers was 

with victory in the north, although atone made, and resulted in the occupation of 

time it seemed as if the campaign, so the redoubt <>f Montretout, near Ville 

vigorously organized by Bourbaki, would d'Avray, there was universal consterna- 

vield brilliant results. But Bourbaki tion at Versailles. The gallant Jagers, 

wasreplaced by General Faidherbe, who whohadlongheldtheredoubt,werethrown 

:il first had numerous successes, and back upon the Versailles road in great 

was finally worsted in the battle of St. confusion ; and the population of the 

Quentin, fought on the 19th of January, old capital of Louis XiY. (locked out, — 

The struggle in the north was hard and regardlessof the menaces of the Germans, 

full of romantic and picturesque episodes, —shouting and laughing, fully convinced 

The Prussian took Amiens; they gave that they were to welcome their victori- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



;{(i7 




ARREST OF A SUPPOSED SPY. 



ous brethren, and to see the headlong 
retreat of the Teutonic foe towards the 
German frontier. It did not take long 
in those days for any proclamation which 
was posted in Paris to reach Versailles ; 
the German spies were worthy of all the 
contemptuous praise which the French 
bestowed upon them; and they went in 
and out of the lines with a recklessness 
and frequency which were quite dazzling. 
On the morning of the 19th they brought 
in a report that the following documenl 
had been posted upon the walls of Paris, 
and was signed by the members of the 
Government of National Defense: — 

Citizens, — The enemy is slaying your 
wives and children. It bombards us night 
and day. It covers even our hospitals with 











shells. The cry to arms is heard on every 
side. 

Those among you who can give their lives 
on the field of battle will march against the 
enemy. Those who remain, to show them- 
selves worthy of their brethren, will accept, 
if necessary, the hardest sacrifices, as their 
means of devotion to the country's service. 
Let us suffer, and die if necessary, but let us 
cry : Vive la Republique 1 



368 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



As the result of this touching procla- 
mation, which, after the lapse of years, 
seems perhaps to our colder apprehension 
somewhat theatrical in tone, Imt which 
then sent a thrill of pity through our 
hearts, and impressed us with the same 
fervor of feeling that it gave to the 
Parisians, the one hundred thousand 
men massed outside the walls on the 
night from the 18th to the 19th were de- 
termined to break through the German 
lines at 10 matter what cost of life, and 
to reach the old town where the invader 
had so coolly and so insolently estab- 
lished himself. Those forces were 
massed in front of Fort? Valerien and 
Issy at daybreak on the 19th; and at 
eight o'clock they had driven in the 
Prussian pickets, and a general alarm 
was sounded all along- the German lines. 
Attacks were expected in the direction 
of St. Denis and on the extreme east; 
hut they did not then occur. 

Before eight o'clock we heard in Ver- 
sailles that twenty-four battalions of 
French liners, National Guards and 
Zouaves, had begun the work of reduc- 
ing the batteries of St. Cloud and 
storming Montretout. As soon as the 
object of the attack was discovered, all 
the troops of Versailles were at once 
despatched to the scene of action, and 

the reserve, ten thousand stalwart Bava- 
rians, were ordered from Bievre and all 
the towns in the rear of the investment 
lines on the south-west, to take up their 
position in the Prussian head-quarters. 
The dozens of batteries which had been 
so lone, stationed on the Place d'Armes 
were limbered up. and rattled away in 
the direction of Montretout. Cavalry, 

infantry, and artillery filled the Avenue 
de Paris and the Avenue de St. Cloud, 
and the 1 men settled down wearily in the 
mud to wait the turn of events, the Ba- 
varians hemuilhm the hours by singing 



hymns, harmoniously and enthusiasti- 
cally, only pausing in their musical efforts 
to cheer when the old Emperor came 
back from his brief visit to the front. 
The National Guards were highly praised 
by the Germans, although Bismarck, in 
speaking of them to Jules Favre a little 
later on during the Conference, relative 
to the conclusion of the armistice, said, 
•■ ( >li. yes ; they are very brave lighters ; 
but when they are going into action they 
are so chid of it that they warn us an 
hour in advance." This was a spiteful 
criticism, provoked by the knowledge 
that, had the French begun their action 
one or two hours earlier on the 19th of 
January they might have gone straight 
into Versailles, and, possibly, have 
captured the newly made Emperor of 
Germany, and all his court. The moral 
effect til' such a coup de. main would have 
been so great that it might have com- 
pletely changed the current of events 
and forced the conclusion of a peace 
most honorable to France. 

The assault at Montretout cost the 
French large numbers of men, and the 
slopes were covered with dead and 
wounded until a late hour in the even- 
ing. General de Bellemare got on to 
the crest known as the Bergerie ; there 
took the curffs house, and pushed on 
valiantly into the park of Buzenval. 
General Ducrot, meantime, on the right, 
was creeping up to the heights of La 
Jonehere. The day was wretchedly 
cold and damp; and from time to time 
a heavy fog hindered the French officers 
carrying orders from one part of the 
field to another in their movements. 
This, doubtless, greatly demoralized the 
ensemble of the action. 

From Saint Germain, and from the 
Villa Stern, we had very advantageous 

views of the fight. From behind the 
trenches which protected the French the 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



369 



firo vrns steady, and seemed gradually 
forcing the Prussians to give way. The 
King left Versailles early in the after- 
noon, attended by a numerous guard, 
and took up his post on the viaduct of 
Marly, whence he had witnessed the affair 
at Le Bourget in October. The Germans 
universally hailed the occasion as the 



been chosen by the French as the point 
where they might form without being ob- 
served, while they waited their turn in the 
movements. By and by Saint Germain 
became an object of close attention 
from the French tire, and many shells 
were aimed with splendid accuracy at 
the pontoon bridge over the Seine. 




THE WALT. OF BUZENVAL. — EPTSOPE OF THE SIEGE OF PARIS. 



baptism of fire for the new Emperor, 
and he was acclaimed whenever he 
showed himself to the enthusiastic sol- 
diery. From Saint Germain, about mid- 
afternoon, we observed a great massing 
of French troops in the edge of the Bois 
du Vesinet This beautiful wood, which 
lay spread out like a lordly park before 
the spectators on the great terrace, had 



One, two, and three, burst near by with- 
out inflicting much damage; at last the 
gunners got their range, and threw the 
projectiles directly on to the structure. 
Then, as ill-luck would have it, the shells 
did not burst. Finally this was given 
up, and the gunners from the batteries 
in front of Valerien tried long-range 
shot, at the Pavilion Henri IV., at the 



370 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



end of the terrace; and there was a 
general suuve qui />< ut, until it was 
demonstrated that Valerien could not 
reach that point. During the few 
hours since ten "'cluck the concentra- 
tion of German troops near Montretout 
had been very rapid, and, as the French 
massed up against the redoubt which 
their advance had taken and so cour- 
ageously held, they were met by a terri- 
ble lire. 

The French troops of the National 
Guard, who had been much ridiculed by 
the regular liners dui'ing the siege, st .mm] 
under lire for more than live hours dur- 
ing this fight without breaking ranks. 
When the French attacked on the side 
near Garcb.es it became evident that 
the German resistance was fully organ- 
ized, and would be successful. .lust 
at the time that the French soldiers 
were thoroughly fatigued by their long 
watch on the previous night and their 
severe fighting, the German reserves 
poured down upon them, and threw them 
out of their position at Montretout. 
But, to the surprise of all the lookers-on, 
the French rallied, and came back at a 
furious pace up the hill, breaking the 
German line, which, although it wavered, 
kept up wild hurrahs of victory, and 
never ceased its steady volleys of mus- 
ketry. The French were half-a-dozen 
times well installed at points from which 
they could have thrown shells into Ver- 
sailles; but, as the dreary winter dark- 
ness closed in, the firing on both sides 
ceased almost entirely, and towards 
eight o'clock the National Guards left 
the redoubt, the Germans throwing an 
occasional shell into the columns, which 
went down the hill in very good order, 
and flocked away to Rueil over roads 
covered with wounded and dying men. 
wagons and carts up to the hubs of 
their wheels in mud. The Germans 



admitted that they would have had to 
lose at least six hundred men if they had 
pursued the National ( ruard. 

The inhabitants of Versailles had cer- 
tainly thought that deliverance was near. 
Many arrests were made. The soldiery, 
which had all the winter been good- 
natured in its intercourse with the French 
population, suddenly became disagreeable 
and fierce, and we saw many little epi- 
sodes which indicated that a collision 
might readily have been provoked. A 
Zouave, half intoxicated, was brought 
in from the battle-field between two 
dragoous, and the comments of the Ger- 
mans upon his antics roused the greatest 
indignation among the French. A rough 
dragoon at the bead of a patrol column 
was so annoyed at seeing a priest stand- 
ing in the midst of an anxious and angry 
crowd, and haranguing the people, that 
he singled out the man of long robes, 
and chased him ingloriouslv into a neigh- 
boring house, striking him a number of 
times with the flat of his sword. Many 
peasants were brought in by soldiers and 
charged with cutting the telegraph wire. 
There was only one sentence passed by 
military tribunals in such cases. — sen- 
tence of death; and the penalty was 
placarded in a hundred places in Ver- 
sailles. There were many tearful eyes 
at the officers' tables at the cafes where 
the invader dined, that evening, when 
the lisl of German losses came in with 
the evening report. The official journal 
the same evening mentioned the sortie in 
a paragraph of six lines, in which it 
utterly ignored tin' partial success of the 
French, and said that the German losses 
were insignificant, which was untrue. It 
also announced that Bourbaki was in 
full retreat, and that tin' siege of Belfort 
had been resumed. 

bate at night the troops from the 
battle-field were still coining into town, 



EURO I'll IX STORM AND CALM. 



371 



bespattered with mud, and many of them 
grievously wounded, and marched past 
the Place d'Armes while military bands 
played hymns of victory. The long 
artillery trains came trundling back to 
the great square, the guns were placed 
in the old positions, and the stalwart 
artillery-men were at work cleaning them, 
half an hour after their arrival, with 
the same careful concern with which an 
English groom would care for a horse 
after a muddy gallop. It was well-nigh 
midnight before the return from the 
battle-field was over, and all night long 
the patrols kept up a vigilant promenad- 
ing through the town. 

When Paris came to count its losses 
after this memorable day, it was thrilled 
with horror. Among the dead at Buzen- 
val was the noble young painter, Henri 
Regnault, a coloristof great distinction, 
already noted for the '• Salome, " which 
is sufficient to render his name immor- 
tal. At Buzenval, too, fell a young 
comedian of the Theatre Francais, who 
when he was taken to the hospital estab- 
lished in the theatre to which he belonged, 
said, " 1 have come back to play once 
more the last scene of the ' Fourberies 
de Seapin.' " A few hours later he died. 
Both sides were eager for an armistice ; 
and the Prussians, on the morning of the 
20th of January, sounded their bugles 
three times, to offer a truce of a few hours, 
before the French answered. Meantime 
the Germans carried the French wounded 
to Marnes, where a Prussian general 
meeting a French general, said to him, 
" We were filled witli admiration for the 
spirit of your new troops of the line." 
The old veteran had mistaken the simple 
National Guards, citizens, doing their 
duty, actuated by patriotism and despair, 
for regulars. 

The war and the siege of Paris were 
coming to au end together. The defeat 



of General Chanzy's army at Le Mans, 
and the defeat of Faidherbe at St.. 
Quentiu, were terrible blows to the 
French. The Prussians had now invaded 
Normandy. They were at Rouen ; Long- 
wy hail capitulated, and we were not 
surprised when we heard that Jules Favre 
had visited Versailles, and that a sus- 
pension of hostilities was certain. 

The French appeared to have thrown 
away their weapons rather wildly after 
their withdrawal from Montretout, for 
wagon-loads of chassepdts were brought 
into Versailles. I saw several hundred 
of the guns undergoing examination two 
days after the light at Montretout, and 
think that the conquered chassepdts were 
distributed to the German outposts. 
After the surrender of the large number 
of fortresses, big and little, nothing was 
more common in Versailles and around 
Paris than to see a Prussian officer wear- 
ing a French sword, the silver cord and 
tassel contrasting strongly with the 
severely elegant plainness of his own uni- 
form. The Germans could see nothing in- 
congruous in wearing a conquered enemy's 
weapons in his own country, and reasoned 
as an officer did concerning the proposed 
removal of the military library of St. Cyr 
to Berlin : " It is ours by the rights of 
war, and if the French are anxious to 
have it back, let them come and get it." 
The library, however, was net removed. 

Each morning we were awakened by 
the clatter of muskets and the regu- 
lar tramp of newly arriving troops. 
The Landwehrsmen, the business men, 
thinkers, butchers, speculators, now 
swarmed everywhere. I counted thirty 
men grouped in the Avenue de St. ('loud, 
every one of whom was more than six 
feet two inches in height, and sturdy in 
proportion. One morning an officer six 
feet seven strolled down the Rue de la 
Paroisse, and some naughty French boys 



372 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



cried out, " Lower the curtains in the 
second-story windows." 

The 24th of January was one of those 
strange days which sometimes come to 
Northern France in the early days of the 
year. The air was as soft and perfumed 
as that of spring; in every forest, alley, 
and garden there was hint of coming 
verdure* In the bombardment there was 
a hill : not a single gun was heard solemnly 
booming. Fancy overcame me ; potent 
is her sway ; and as I walked by the 
great pond I seemed to lose Versailles, 
invaders, and the conquered population, 
and my thoughts were with the defenders 

of the massive fortress city, so near and 

Yet so far away. Presto! As with the 
magic carpet of the Arabian tale, 1 

was transported faster than balli s, 

pigeons, or lovers' wishes could go. 
Now I was at Surcsncs, where thou- 
sands of blue-bloused workmen were still 
toiling on the fortifications, as if they 
fancied that the Germans were deter- 
mined upon an assault ; now in the 
magnificent drives of the Boulogne forest, 
where pale and grim old women were cut- 
ting boughs from the trees which had been 
felled by order of the military engineers. 
Half way up the slope of the Valerien 
acclivity I could see the glitter of the gay 
uniforms of soldiers, two and two, and 
four and four, carrying bodies and 
digging the graves, planting the seed 
which the fallen oak of the Empire had 
scattered. I noticed that thedense foliage 

on the Seine banks was gone, that the 

bridges were wrecks, the villages ruins, 
the hillsides of St. Cloud, of Bellevue, of 
Mendon, scarred and seamed by war. 
Uncouth-looking peasants, ill at case in 
their uniform, and speaking dialects which 
I could not understand, jostled civilians, 
and mistrusted everybody. On their 
rude tunics were the names of towns and 
cities of which I had never heard. Cava- 



liers, who scarcely merited the name, so 
awkward were they On their horses, gal- 
loped recklessly, bearing orders. Up and 
clown the Lois de Boulogne constantly 
went the patrols, as often arresting an 
innocent baker or candlestick-maker as 
a German spy when spies were not rare. 
On a tree a singular notice was posted: 
•• Instructions for avoiding shell-lire;" 
pencil-mark by a mischievous Parisian 
under it : •• Last and best instruction, get 
out of range." 

Why could not one go down the deserted 
avenue at the southern end of the wood? 
Because the town of Boulogne was burn- 
ing and the Prussians were constantly 
sending shell into the edge of the forest, 
ami children offered splinters of the 
death engines for sale, saying, " These 
are smaller than those of yesterday. The 
Prussians are exhausting themselves." 
Now came the soldier detailed to bring 
newspapers from the city to the sub- 
urbs, the diminutive sheets printed on 
straw paper, clamoring for the removal of 
Trochu, claiming victory in an obscure 
part of France, and bestowing a slight 
scratch upon Gambetta ; local news; mor- 
tality of infants ; distressing and terrible 
suffering among i r women; riot in cer- 
tain disreputable quarters ; attempt to 
traduce a fille publique before a court- 
martial by her sisters, because she had 
been into the Prussian lines and safely 
out again ; decree of the military gov- 
ernor condemning disorders ; horrible 
penalties; regiments of Mobiles, fat, 
lean, ragged, and spruce, marching with 
discontented air to Valerien; twenty or 
thirty richly dressed gentlemen with arms 
inlaid with silver and trappings of horses 
superb in decoration. These were the 
counts and barons organized as eclaireurs, 
ami doing good service for France. 

Did I dream these things, or did they 
come from the hundred rumors and 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



373 



reports of German soldiers, who had 
been at the front, and who were fond of 
nothing so much as of gossiping about 
what was going on within the French 
lines ? 

The bombardment of St. Denis was 
well under way. Since the sortie of 
the 21st the Germans had been pouring 
shot into the town, and many fires had 
been noticed there. Frenchmen came 
into Versailles with rumors that the 
Cathedral was destroyed. But no ! only 
a few shells had touched it. The grand 
old Latin cross into wdiose form the 
church was built was still unharmed, 
and the tomb of the kings seemed 
charmed against the enemy's shells. 
The houses and public edifices all 
around it were in ruins ; huge timber- 
yards, ignited by an exploding bomb, 
sent up such a glare and smoke that 
many were persuaded that Paris was in 
flames. The fort got shells poured into 
it every second ; they rolled together 
over its walls; they exploded upon < i.e 
another; they seemed to struggle lor 
place above the bastion ; still St. Denis 
held out bravely, answeriug in deep base 
its defiance of the loudest German guns. 

On the 22d the fire from the brother 
forts near St. Denis suddenly ceased ; 
then St. Denis himself missed his accus- 
tomed round. This strange quiet un- 
nerved the Germans, who could scarcely 
sleep without the thunders to which they 
had so long been accustomed. On the 
southern side Issy's gigantic battered 
hulk was still supporting the German 
fire ; but the embrasures were closed, and 
the guns were said to have been removed 
to the Paris ramparts. The French 
marines, said the Germans, were now to 
man the wall guns. Fort Yanves was 
in a dreadful condition, more damaged, 
if possible, than Issy. Now we heard a 
brisk shooting from German title pits. 



French prisoners brought in thought that 
their sharp-shooters were destroying the 
whole Prussian army ; German sharp- 
shooters, on their side, boasted of the 
many victims they had made. In the 
German batteries gun carriages began 
to give way, from the severe strain upon 
them. 

And now it was announced as certain 
that M. Jules Favre had reached Ver- 
sailles; that a carriage had been sent to 
the river at Sevres to meet him ; that he 
had eagerly read the official journal of 
that evening, in which was Bismarck's 
circular enumerating the number of times 
which the French had broken the rules 
of the Geneva Convention, besides the 
intelligence that St. Denis was still 
burning. For the first time lie had the 
particulars of Faidherbe's defeat, of 
the peasants retreating from Cam- 
brai and the surrounding country. I 
was fortunate enough to see M. Favre. 
lie looked old, and worn, and weary. 
and as if he had had but little to 
eat. That which most truly distressed 
M. Favre was his complete ignorance of 
the situation of the army of the east, 
when he went first to see Count Von 
Bismarck. He knew of the disasters to 
General Chanzy, and. as we have seen, 
read of the troubles which had befallen 
Faidherbe ; but he had not heard a word 
of Bourbaki. lie knew only of that, 
general's march towards Montbeliard, 
which had been so brilliantly begun, 
and that General Von Werder had evac- 
uated Dijon, Gray, and Vesoul before 
Bourbaki's advance. But he did not 
know that, on the very day that he was 
pleading for an armistice, Bourbaki in 
despair had attempted to take his own 
life, and that the Prussian division 
marching upon Dijon had blocked Gari- 
baldi's way. 

Wheal M. Favre asked Bismarck for 



.574 



EUROPE J.X STORM AND CALM. 



news he said that he had had none for 
several days: the wires wort' ;ill down in 
the greater part of the country, and com- 
munications, he said, were slow and 
uncertain. But, despite the apparent 
insufficiency of his information, Bis- 
marck was Yen anxious that Belfort 
should be surrendered. It would be as 
well, he said, to give it up, for it could 
not hold out for more than a week 
longer. M. Favre could not consent to 
such a concession. Bismarck refused to 
comprise Belfort in the armistice, and 
poor M. Favre's anxiety was very great, 
for he fancied that the army of the east 
might be victorious, and raise the siege 
of Belfort, and to be asked to give it np 
in such a juncture or to relinquish the 
conclusion of an armistice, which was 
vital to Paris, was a dreadful alternative. 
'•Very well." said Bismarck, "then put 
oft the signing of the armistice until 
after this fate of Belfort is decided." 

M. Favre hardly knew what to say to 
this, for he said. " 1 was constantly 
pursued by the terrible fear that I should 
not have the necessary time for revict- 
ualling l'aiis." 

< )n the eveniug of the 26th of January 
]\I . Favre had a long conference with 
General Von Moltke. After arranging 
the principal details of an armistice with 
Bismarck, and after he had reached the 
point at which the signing of the con- 
vention seemed only a matter of form, 
he came hack to Bismarck, and had a 
final conversation with him. The great 
Chancellor accompanied him to his car- 
riage, and said, with something like lively 
sympathy in his tones, as he was taking 
leave of M. Favre, " I scarcely think 
thai, at the point which we have now 
reached, a rupture is possible. If you 
consent, we will stop the thing this even- 
ing." — •• I should have asked you to do 
it vesterdav," answeredM. Favre, deeply 



moved. " As I have the misfortune to 
represent conquered Paris, I could not 
solicit a favor: but I accept with much 
heartiness now that you offer. It is the 
first consolation I have had in our 
troubles. It was insupportable to me to 
think that Mood should he shed in vain, 
while we are arranging the conditions for 
a suspension of hostilities." 

" Very well," said Bismarck, " it is 
understood that we shall give reciprocal 
orders to have the firing cease at mid- 
night, lie good enough to see that your 
orders are strictly executed." 

M. Favre promised, stipulating only 
that the Freueh should be allowed to lire 
the last shot. 

■•It was nine o'clock." he wrote in his 
official account, ■•when 1 crossed the 
Seine at the bridge of Sevres. The con- 
flagration in St. Cloud was still in prog- 
ress. Probably not having been warned 
of our arrival, our artillery-men at 
Point du Jour were raining shells in our 
neighborhood. Two or three missiles 
fell on the bank just as we left it. It 
would have been odd enough if one 
of them had taken a notion to inter- 
rupt my mission. As soon as I reached 
Paris I hastened to General Vinoy. I 
drew up the order agreed upon, accom- 
panying it with the most precise instruc- 
tions. At the moment that I was writ- 
ing it an officer on duty received a tele- 
gram from the commander of the Fort 
do la Corn 1 Neuve. This was to ask 
for reinforcements, and expressed lively 
fears for the results of the enemy's 
bombardment on the morrow. ' I give 
you here,' I said to the officer, who 
brought me this news, ' something 
which will shelter this brave garrison. 
Our soldiers have done their duty to the 
very end. We owe them as much grati- 
tude as if they were victorious.' 

•• At a quarter of an hour before mid- 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



375 



night I stood on the stone balcony at 
the Ministry of Foreign Affairs overlook- 
ingthe Seine. The artillery of our forts 
and that of the German army were still 
crashing on. Twelve o'clock sounded. 
There was a last explosion repeated far 
off by an echo, which died slowly away. 
Then silence settled over all. It was 
the first repose for many lone- weeks. It 
was the first symptom of peace since the 
beginning of the senseless war into which 
we had been forced by the infatuation of 
a despot and the criminal servility of his 
courtiers. I stood for a long time lost 
in my reflections. I believed that the 
massacres had ceased ; and, in spite of 
the sorrow which weighed me down, this 
thought was a kind of relief. I did not 
foresee that behind this bloody curtain 
now lowered upon our disasters were 
concealed still more lamentable calami- 
ties and humiliations." 

The armistice was signed : a neutral 
zone was established between the two 
armies, and the siege of Paris was prac- 
tically at an end. The proclamation of 
the Government of National Defense, 
which was posted on the walls of Paris 
on the 28th of January, announced that 
the National Guard would preserve its 
organization and its weapons; that the 
resistance of Paris would be closed in a 



few hours : that the troops would remain 
in Paris among the citizens : the officers 
would keep their swords : and that the 
Government felt that it could show that 
it had held out just as long as there was 
food enough left to allow of (he re\ actual- 
ling of the fortress without subjecting 
two million men, women, and children to 
the tortures of famine. ■' The siege of 
Paris," said this proclamation, "has 
lasted four months and twelve days : the 
bombardment, a whole month. Since the 
15th of January the ration of bread has 
been reduced to three hundred grammes. 
The ration of horse-flesh since the 15th of 
December has been but thirty grammes. 
The mortality has more than trebled; 
but in the midst of so many disasters 
there has not been a single day of dis- 
couragement. The enemy is the first 
to render tribute to the moral energy 
and the courage that the whole Pari- 
sian population has shown. Paris has 
suffered greatly, but the Republic will 
profit by its long sufferings, so nobly 
borne. We go forth from the struggle 
which has just ended ready for the 
struggle which is to come. We go forth 
with all our honor, with all our hopes. 
despite the anguish of the present hour, 
more than ever confident in the high 
destinies of the country." 



376 EUROPE Ih STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER FORTY. 

Personal Reminiscences of the Close of the Siege. — The "Neutral Zone." — Wonders ami Comicali- 
ties. -Through the Park at St. Clou d. — The Crown Prince's Redoubt. -Starving Parisians.— 
The Hungry Faces. -A Hundred People following a Hare. 

THE Parisians had succeeded by ac- you must persist, we must be brought to 

eordiug the capitulation of Paris, the a stop at once.' 

occupation of the foils, the taeil agree- " The Chancellor asked me for my cs- 

rnent to the payment of a vast military tiraate, but I reserved my decision until 

contribution by the capital, and the ful- after a conference with my colleagues, 

filment of other conditions as bitter, as They fixed the maximum atfive hundred 

humiliating, in securing an armistice of millions. I then proposed one hundred, 

twenty-one days. Apropos of the eon- and closed the matter at two hundred 

tribution which the Prussians proposed millions. The Chancellor wished us to 

to levy. Bismarck and Jules Favre had add to it three hundred millions, to be 

quite a spirited discussion. The Chan- charged to the war indemnity. ' That 

cellor had, from the first, said that he will make it,' he said,, -round iiuin- 

should exact the payment of a war con- hers.' 

tribution, but he hail not stated what its •• I had no difficulty in making him 

amount was likely to be. So a day or understand that we could treat only in 

two before the negotiations were closed, the name of Paris, and that it was for- 

M. Favre raised the subject, when the bidden to us to prejudge the question 

Ch: illor's face, says the French states- of peace or war, expressly reserved for 

man, took on an indefinable expression, national decision." 

"The city of Paris," said Bismarck, Paris, that could pay an indemnity of 

'■ is loo powerful and too rich for an two hundred millions of francs without 

instant to permit that its ransom should other effort than the Stroke of the pen, 

not he worthy of it. It seems to me could not find, for the fust few days 

that il would he scarcely proper to ask after the capitulation, bread enough for 

for less than a milliard." its children. There were two or three 

'• • This is certainly only an ironical days of cruel waiting, when il seemed 

eulogy,' 1 answered, ' and I shall re- almost certain thai the Germans would 

train from considering it as serious.' be < hargeable with the grave fault of 

"But it is quite serious." replied the having caused a famine among the be- 

Chancellor, "and entirely in proportion sieged French. The splendid charity of 

with lh. ise that the other cities have paid London and the tremendous efforts made 

us." in the north of France saved the situa- 

•• • I should not like." I said, • to tion. No sooner was the armistice 

break off the negotiations for a simple signed than Jules Favre telegraphed I" 

question of money; but there are exac- London, Antwerp, and Dieppe to have 

tions which render nothing possible, provisions sent in with the greatest celer- 

This is of the number; and, if you think itv. According to the terms of the new 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



377 



treaty, these provisions could not enter 
Paris until after the forts had been 
delivered to the Germans, and the walls 
of the garrison of the capital had been 
disarmed. Jules Favre and his col- 
leagues foresaw that, unless tliis were 
modified, the provisions, which were 
now pouring forward on all the railways, 
would accumulate at a distance of a few 
miles from the starving millions, and 
would there be forced to remain while 
the Germans were slowly taking their 
precautions. His mind was filled with 
dreadful visions of mobs of men and 
women howling for bread, of new mani- 
festations of the communal insurrection, 
prompted by the pangs of hunger; and 
he went straight to Bismarck and told 
him the truth. 

The Chancellor was not only startled, 
he was deeply moved. lie promised 
that he would have the whole matter 
changed forthwith, and that there need 
be no fear that the military operations 
would prevent the transportation of food. 
He even offered to the French all the 
rations that the German army could 
spare. This surplus supply of the Ger- 
mans was sufficient to nourish the popu- 
lation of Paris for a day and a half. M. 
Favre accepted it. The two men parted 
greatly touched by the mutual conces- 
sions of pride and of dignity to which 
their charitable aim had compelled them. 

Hut it was not until the afternoon of 
the 4th of February that the first train 
which had entered the Paris fortifications 
since the 17th of .September rolled into 
the Northern railway station. This was 
the train filled with provisions which the 
population of London had contributed 
for tin- relief of Paris. The same train 
brought a. letter from the Lord Mayor of 
the English metropolis, saying that, at 
the first news of the armistice, a meeting 
of bankers, commercial men. and work- 



men had been held at the Mansioi 
House, anil that an appeal had been 
made to the sympathy manifest in all 
parts of the country for unfortunate 
France. A first subscription of 250,000 
francs had been placed at the disposition 
of the English committee, and it was 
hoped that the sum raised by voluntary 
contributions would reach 2,000,000 of 
francs. This was but a trifle for a 
capital which had just agreed to pay out 

•-'(Ml, 001). las ransom; but it gave the 

stricken people courage, and they seemed 
once more to breathe freely. 

The neutral zone between the French 
and German lines, and extending all the 
way around Paris, was fine of the curiosi- 
ties of the siege. This was a strip of 
territory, ingress to which was forbidden 
either to French or German troops until 
the close of the deliberations of the na- 
tional assembly, which was to decide on 
peace or war. On either side of this zone 
swarmed the lately contesting soldiery, 
and the Germans had seized upon the 
opportunity to indulge in their passion for 
military pomp, and perhaps, I may say to 
air their military vanity. Their officers 
went on duty arrayed as if for a prome- 
nade at a court, or in a ball-room. They 
wore their gala uniforms, their best boots, 
their most shining spurs and immaculate 
white gloves. The Prussian officer thus 
impressed one as a superior kind of 
policeman, a police sergeant, if you will, 
who was doing duty away from home and 
who wished to impress the foreign eye 
with the sense of his national dignity. 

On the morning after the occupation 
of the forts I found some German sol- 
diers at a point between St. (loud and 
Sevres doing what they called playing at 
French Republicans, having made them- 
selves grotesque uniforms out of some red 
curtains which they had found. A large 
collection of ladies and gentlemen on the 



378 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM 

other side of the river was l< »< >I< i 1 112: at Prussians took their ground here step by 
them through field-glasses and audibly step at imminent risk, and purchased it 
expressing its disgust. The Prussian at the expense of hundreds of lives. An 
sentinel on one pier of the ruined bridge officer told me, with tears in his eyes, that 
of Sevres, and the French sentinel on what he had Inst many brother officers then-, 
was left of the other side of the bridge, The besiegers seemed to have found the 
presented, as they glared at each other Seine gun-boats more troublesome than 
across the deep stream, rather a comical eventhe Parisians trusted that they might 
aspect. A few Germans were digging prove. Lying close to the water's edge, 
rifle-pits, with a view to possible future and possessing t lie wondrous faculty of 
emergencies. •■ making themselves scarce," they were 
On a high hill between St. Cloud and very effective instruments of offense. 
Sevres stood one of the most famous of They came down towards Billancourt 
Prussian batteries, a place where, for two with the speed of a railway train, and, 
weeks before the capitulation, men were before the out-look on the redoubt could 
obliged to lay perdu half the time, ex- cry " bombe" they threw their deadly 
peeting destruction every moment when missiles, the man at the helm wheeled 
they showed their heads and while they around, and away they went, leaving sor- 
were firing their cannon at the enemy, row among their enemies. 
The Prussians all spoke with awe after the Climbing up the mighty zigzag path 
siege of the fearful tire of the forts upon leading into the redoubt 1 found on 
:'iis redoubt. It required some little the way great heaps of shells and great 
philosophy to go in and out of this ex- pieces of iron, some of them rusty 
temporized fortification under lire, and with Mood. At the top of the hill stood 
the few times that 1 attempted it gave a collection of charming houses, once fur- 
me a lively impression of the horrors of a nished with the greatest taste, but then 
bombardment. Four German officers, forever ruined. Near by was a bomb- 
who were the first into this Crown proof sunk several feet into the ground, 
Prince's Redoubt, as ii was called, gave and thence the officers issued their orders. 
me an animated description of the terrors In the principal house one long, elegant 
of the initial dav of the occupation, parlor, which had evidently belonged to 
" Shells every moment," said one officer ; a literary man, was tilled with beds, 
■•and when we fancied that the forts where the tired men had thrown them- 
would give us an instant's respite, then selves, regardless of danger, to sleep, 
came the fearful screeching of the gre- The walls were decorated with figures of 
nades from the gun-boats on the Seine. Tui'COS anil Zouaves running before the 
When a parlevientaire came out from Prussians, and a huge cartoon repre- 
either side we felt like men who hail senleil Napoleon handing his sword to 
been pardoned after sentence of execu- King William. The floor of this room 
tion." The French had thrown up the was littered with tine engravings, hooks 
redoubt at the beginning of the alarm of value, and tapestries torn from the 
about the capital's safety, and had in- walls. On one side was a breakfast- 
tended to arm it, but had not succeeded table smashed, with coffee-cups and 
when they were dislodged. F.\ en had they glasses in confusion beneath it. A 
put guns into position in it the enemy hole in the wall and some grenade 
would have had it sooner or later. The fragments close by explained the inter- 



EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



379 



rupted breakfast. On the d ■ of an out- 
bouse, which served as a guard-room, was 
written a German distich : — 

11 How happy is he whom no cry can call out 
To take his night turn on the deadly redoubt ! " 

The dead seemed indeed much more 
fortunate than the living, in this dreadful 
spot. Days and nights were constantly 
full of horror ami sorrow. The Germans 
had one consolation, — they had enough 
to eat. The drivers of the supply-carts 
ran imminent risk in bringing the food in 
every evening, and sometimes a shell 
sent the sheep newly killed and the great 
rounds of black-bread living into air. 
The walls of the redoubt and the deep 
trenches covered by boughs and logs. 
leading away in every direction, were 
battered and pounded as by a giant's 
hammer. Great rows of sand-bags were 
piled high in the earth-works' top, and 
acres on acres of tree trunks, sawn has- 
tily in the neighboring parks, were placed 
along the hill at right angles. 

In the highesl corner, where one could 
look one hundred feet down over the wall, 
hung a flag-pole, on which a sheet, was 
run out whenever hostilities were sus- 
pended, so that a parlementaire might 
come across the river. At the mark of 
the outer line of works stood a rustic 
arbor, with a round window, in which a 
telescope was placed, and where watch- 
men sat, night and day, to gaze by light 
and listen by dark. Although this was 
the most exposed position in the redoubt 
not a shell appeared to have touched it. 
It was interesting at the close of the 
siege to visit Ville d'Avray and St. 
Cloud, where the ravages of war had 
been so great. On this same day of the 
occupation of the forts I made this excur- 
sion, and noted the swarms of French peas- 
ants hurrying back from the villages nearer 



Paris, where they had hastily taken 
refuge, to their homes. There were 
strong men, and weak old patriots bent 
and shrivelled, housewives and buxom 
young peasant girls with babes at their 
breasts. All had packs of household 
gear upon their backs, and their faces 
bore marks of prolonged suffering and 
privation. Many of these simple people 
went mad during the siege : the horrors 
of the protracted bombardment, the in- 
credible hardships which they were called 
upon to suffer after lives of peace and 
plenty, turned their heads. 

The inhabitants of Ville d'Avray re- 
turned to And their houses a camp or a 
stable. The hundreds of charming little 
white stone villas — with their outlooks 
on the lovely valley where Gambetta, at 
what all men thought was merely a pause 
in his great career, came to purchase a 
tranquil nook in which to repose — had 
windows broken, and walls smashed by 
shells. The cellars were converted dur- 
ing the siege into lodgings for the olli- 
cers, physicians, and wounded. In many 
of these extemporized barracks one 
found interesting testimony to the intelli- 
gence and decent feeling of the invaders. 
Trifles supposed to have value from as- 
sociation had been bestowed in safe 
places; carpets had been hidden away to 
save them from being made into breeches 
for the outposts ; and in many places pi- 
anos had been safely stored. The ceilings 
had been torn out, and rebuilt with ma- 
terials calculated to resist shell-lire ; and 
thus the rooms had mainly been ruined. 
The French assert that the Germans had 
a passion for clocks, and generally 
carried them off; but that they took 
frequent measures to save property 
which they might have taken or spoiled, 
is quite true. 

All the way from Versailles gate to the 
entrance of St. Cloud park the noblest 



380 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

trees had been felled to bar the way in in with sportive verses on Moltke's 

case of a prolonged success, such as that genius, or plaintive couplets detailing 

of Montretout might have been. Vines hardship; the branches were also traced 

and fences were utilized in interlacing with comical reminiscences of the fall- 

the labyrinth, until ii seemed as if hardly en Empire; the hedges and the palings 

a weasel might cross the track comfort- showed dreadful gaps; trees were shorn 

ably. This, with a barricade at every of their branches, showing hew persist- 

augle in the highways, and batteries on the eutly Valerien had tried to make the 

heights around the position, would have still more persistent enemy unmask him- 

been tenable perhaps for days against a self. If the straw strewn by the hedge 

vigorous assault. It look weeks after the could have spoken it would have had its 

siege to disencumber the fields. Enter- scalp to mourn ; the satyr had lost his 

ing the park by the great avenue leading horns, the lion his tail. The live 

to the palace, 1 found to my left, as I great avenues radiating through the 

came in, a German cemetery, where the park from the monumental observatory, 

dozens of soldiers struck down on duty called the " Diogenes Lantern," were 

dining the bombardment were buried, scarcely recognizable. The frozen ruts 

Before reaching the several roads which were deep enough to he down in. 

led through the park to Sevres and Meu- Away below the hill 1 saw a dense 

don, I arrived at a redoubt, where a sen- smoke slowly rising. It came from St. 

tinel halted me, and turned me to the Cloud, burniugfor the last eight days. At 

right. — probably from habit rather than the palaces the evidences of ruin were 

necessity. I had time however to observe even greater. Superb chairs, on which 

the famous redoubt which the Jagers the grandees of Europe had reposed, 

held so valiantly, and whose solid semi- la y scattered upon the abatis, every trace 

circle of earth and stone, with the queerly of their brilliant coloring washed from the 

contrived loop-holes tor observations, in- upholstery by the rains and snows. In a 

terested me even more than did the huge glade near the chateau were long rows 

guns, marked " Spaudau, 1868," ranged of w len palings, garnished fantasti- 

in rows in the trenches below. cally with broken ornaments of floor and 

I entered a long trench, sheltered art- ceiling from the palace. The circular 

fully from the missiles of death by a park', with its gorgeous orange trees ami 

door made of woven green boughs, tasteful statues, was as filthy as a barn- 

evidently the work of hands impelled by yard. Nearly every statue was scarred, 

memories of Christmas-tide, and perhaps seared, blackened. The palace was a 

by the old burden, — shapeless mass of stone, seamed with the 

comet-like tracks of shells. One could 

"O Christmas-tree, Christmas-tree, lieu- scarcely walk across the floors inside. 

faithful are thy branches ! " They were heaped ten feel high, with 

great pieces of the roof, with torn and 

Farther on I found sentry-boxes disjointed gildings. The lower halls 

made out of wardrobes, taken bodily were occupied by dozens of soldiers, and 

from the villas of the neighboring hundreds were swarming about the 

towns. Here and there was a superb environs, picking up bits of shell and 

mahogany armoire, ruined by weather stone as mementos. 

and soldiers' wear, marked outside and A few steps to the right brought one 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



381 



to the valley, where the beautiful lake 
was once surrounded with sylvan statues. 
Scarcely one remained standing. From 
the terrace, at the Seiue front of the 
chdteau, one could judge even more 
accurately of the ruin. The devastation 
of the invasion of 181."> is still remem- 
bered with horror in France ; but this 
had been more terrible. Then, as now, 
foreign soldiery had wandered in the 
"aniens. The books of the library, in 
1815, were trampled into the earth, and 
the walls were disfigured. But now one 
could not find a book or trace the outlines 
of a picture, nor yet distinguish the 
rtiilmi of Mars from that of Apollo. 
Elegant architectural nooks were all 
crushed out of shape, battered into 
oblivion. 

Groups of otlicers on the terrace were 
scanning the French bank of the Seine 
through their field-glasses and drinking 
wine out of bottles of which they had 
unearthed a good store that morning. 
High above the hill, where the church 
spire of St. Cloud stood uninjured 
amid the almost universal ruin, villas 
were smouldering. Descending into the 
town I found that a superb conservatory 
had been utilized as a stable, and that 
many residences had shared the same 
fate. The great alley which runs 
through the town from the lower park, 
bordered on either side by booths whose 
owners had not had time to open them 
for the annual fair in 1870, was crowded 
with soldiers curiously examining the 
toys and bonbon boxes in the booths. 
One soldier took a child's drum from a 
booth and hung it about his neck. A 
sergeant stepped forward: "Fool, put 
down that silly thing ! Do you want 
five days in the guard-house ? " The ex- 
plorations were consequently stopped, 
and the explorers went to warm them- 
selves around fires made of beams taken 



from tlii' ruined houses. The town in 
its garment of slow lire offered a pictu- 
resque spectacle. 

The French authorities had expressed 
their desire that during the armistice no 
strangers should enter Paris unless they 
had pressing reason therefor. But to 
those of us whose sympathies were with 
Paris, and whose anxieties for the fate 
of hundreds of friends within the walls 
were daily growing greater, this ex- 
pression of the authorities had but little 
weight. Application at the Prussian 
head-quarters for passes over neutral 
ground were refused, on the plea that 
they would displease the French. Daily 
visits were regularly, however, made by 
the French residents at Versailles. 
Women ami children escaped between the 
bayonets of the sentinels and ran away 
to the surrounding villages, in the hope 
of procuring food or of hearing news of 
friends. In all that strip of country 
from St. Denis. Sarcelles, Ecouen, Vil- 
leneuve-le-Bel, Gonesse, etc., the most 
frightful destitution now prevailed. 
Bread was not to be obtained for any 
money. Many of the inhabitants who 
returned in haste from Paris to their 
homes lived on rotten cabbages, which 
lay about the fields ; and when one found 
a frozen carrot or potato lie esteemed 
himself fortunate. From Versailles I went 
through St. Germain, thence to Epinai 
and St. Denis, and so on to Ecouen, for 
the express purpose of studying the 
condition of the people after the occupa- 
tion of the forts. I bent my course over 
the desolate country to Argenteuil, by 
the lower road, which had been so dan- 
gerous on the occasion of our last jour- 
ney around Paris. No sentinel barred 
the way. The birds were singing in all 
the trees as I passed, and the soldiers, 
beating back the clamorous bread-de- 
manding crowds at Argenteuil, simply 



382 



EUROTE IN STORM AXP CALM. 



asked me my nationality and let me 

[KISS. 

I found the railway bridge broken into 
fragments, the rails bent and thrown 
across the track, wine and ice cellars 
along the road converted into bomb- 
proofs. At Argenteuil many a well- 
dressed person addressed me in terms 
which almost commanded tears, begging 
for a morsel of food if 1 had it. Alas! I 
was as badly provided as most of the sup- 
plicants. Old women solicited alms as 
they sank by the wayside, overcome; 
little children, thin and pale, cried 
bitterly as their parents dragged them 
wearily onward. Sometimes I met 
carts driven by soldiers who had been 

sent out to forage, and was "hid |,, see 
that in many cases the sturdy driver and 
his guard had dismounted to give 
fainting women and children a ride on 
the straw. In this case the conquerors 
had obtained their apotheosis. The 
good old words, which could have been 
so fittingly applied to these soldiers, 
came into my mind : " lie drinkcth no 
blood, but tbirsteth after honor. He is 
•lived v of victory, but, never satisfied 

with mercy. In fight terrible as be- 
coinetb a captain : in conquest mild as 
beseemeth a king." 

From Argenteuil forward to Epinai, 
near St. Denis, I constantly met long 
lines of carts laden with household 
goods of returning refugees. The most 
affecting sight was the hundreds of bare- 
headed women scrambling in the field 
for froy.en vegetables and the lines of 
half-sympathetic soldiers off duty look- 
ing curiously on. Near here I met the 
Crown Prince of Saxony, attended by a 
superb cavalry guard, galloping away 
from head-quarters at Margency. But, 

as he gazed on the singular scene, his 

handsome young lace glowed with sym- 
pathy, and 1 felt that he had learned a 



new lesson concerning the horrors of 
war. 

Epinai seemed visited by the ven- 
geance of ( iod. It was a small town 
for a suburban one ; and from its 
boundaries one could see the grinning 
guns of Forts La Breche and the Double 
Crown. The Prussian commanders had 
ordered an inundation of the roads in the 
neighborhood sonic time before: and it 
was partially successful. The routes 
towards Paris therefore resembled small 
rivers. There remained hardly a house 
in Epinai untouched by shot or shell. 
Barricades were still standing in a hun- 
dred places. I saw a bulwark twenty- 
four feet long, entirely made out of fur- 
niture, — rich chairs, tables, and sofas 
piled up in confusion, and carpets 
stopping up the chinks. 

From one of the half-ruined forts a 
long procession of German cavalry in 
fatigue uniforms was slowly winding, 
and a few trumpets were sounding in the 
distance. As I turned from the neigh- 
borhood of St. Denis to move toF.couen, 
I came upon endless lines of starving 
Parisians, hastening out to buy, beg, or 
borrow food ; and I saw a spectacle 
which I shall never see again, and which 
struck me with astonishment : — 

A man of humble appearance bad 
caught a bare escaping through a hedge, 
had knocked it on the bead, and with an 
air of supreme content was moving 
briskly along the road in tin- same di- 
rection which I was taking. Behind 
him followed at least one hundred Pari- 
sians, all with their eyes fixed with an 
expression of intense longing upon this 
unhappy hare, hanging limp and lifeless 
from its captor's back. There were 
people in that hundred who would have 
knocked the lucky possessor of the little 
animal on the head had each not been 
restrained by the presence of the other. 



EUROPE JN STORM AND CALM. 



383 



I have not the slightest desire, after the 
lapse of many years, to exaggerate an 
impression which was at the time 
intensely powerful ; but I felt then, as I 
feel now, that I was looking upon men 
and women actuated by the same almost 
uncontrollable murderous impulse that 
human beings feel slowly overpowering 
them when they are drifting together at 
sea in an open boat, suffering from 



hunger ami thirst. The wolfishncs^ of 
the gaze, the stealthiness of the tread, 
and the inexpressible longing on all 
those people's faces were at once fasci- 
nating and repulsive. Nothing could 
give, better than this little incident, an 
idea of the extremities of suffering anil 
privation to which the populace of Paris 
bad been driven by the siege. 



384 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER FORTY-ONE, 



A Great Historic Occasion. — The Assembly at Bordeaux. — Thiers in lii* New Rule. — A Political 
Tragedy in the Theatre do laComedie. - -The Protest of the Alsatians. — The Final Impeachment 
of the Empire. -A Strange Scene. — Louis Blanc, Victor Hugo, :mi| tin- other Exiles. —The Vote 
for Peace. — A Stern Renunciation. - The Mayor of Strasbourg Dies of a Broken Heart. 



IN Bordeaux we seemed to lie in 
another country, if not in another 
world, after the excitement of the elec- 
tions in Paris. The constant quarrels 
of tin.' various political factious, which 
were beginning t" exercise their hostility 
now that the siege had ended, and the 
increasing misery on every hand, had 
not seemed abnormal until we got out 
of the lines of tin' war. and came to the 
compart and picturesque southern city, 
where all the natives were clamorous for 
the continuation of the struggle. Peo- 
ple who came out of the anguish ami 
turmoil could not refrain from reminding 
the southern populations that they would 
not be so anxious for war if they had 
seen a little more of it. But these crit- 
ics were set aside as tritlei's. Had not 
Gambetta resigned his high office, 
although it must have required much 
self-denial to do so. when he heard a 
hint of the negotiations for peace? Was 
there not strength enough in tin' great 
south, with its vast resources and its 
sturdy people, for the organization of a 
new defence, which should oppose a 
linn resistance to the Prussian armies? 
So let the Assembly meet and let it part ; 
but let it not dare to hint at Prussian 
desires, or, most especially, at cession of 
territory. 

It took thirty hours to gel from Paris 
to Bordeaux, a journey usually accom- 
plished in twelve hours. The permits 
to leave the capital, permits which depu- 



ties and private soldiers, citizens, and 
strangers alike were forced to have, 
were elaborate documents, printed in 
French and German, and decorated with 
numerous stamps. They described ac- 
curately the appearance, profession, 
and object of the journey of the person 
to whom they were issued. When the 
train had crossed the neutral lines and 
arrived on Prussian ground at Vitry, a 
white-gloved and elegantly uniformed 
Hessian officer came to collect the 
passes: and while they were rigidly in- 
spected the train waited an hour. It 
was somewhat amusing to observe the 
conceit of the Germans who came and 
ranged , themselves along the platform, 
evidently that the French notables might 
observe their uniforms. The Parisians, 
however, were fully equal to the occa- 
sion, and when they saw anything worth 
praising in the German military scheme, 
they freely praised it. But they were 
quite as free in their adverse criticisms. 
It was only when they saw a ruined 
house or broken bridge that they mut- 
tered against the " Prussian vermin." 

At Fort d'lvry we saw a Prussian 
column, several battalions strong, wind- 
ing its way among throngs of French- 
men who had evidently come home to 
see what was left out of the general 
ruin. At Choisy-le-Roi, there were the 
same sad-faced people searching for the 
remnants of their properties. Here 
homes were completely ruined ; walls 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



;;.s;> 



were toppled over, streets encumbered 
with rubbish, fragments of shell and 
shot. The great bridge lay in the bed 
of the .Seine, forming a kind of dam, 
over which the usually tranquil water 
was foaming. 

As we moved away from Choisy-le- 
Roi, we saw another Prussian column 
moving in, the men's uniforms covered 
with dirt, and the officers shouting at 
the laggards. The peasants at each 
station pointed out the track of the war 
to the Parisians, and were listened to 
with great interest. " Do the Prussians 
annoy and abuse you?" was the question 
often asked ; and " No, not much," was 
the invariable reply. 

At Vierzon we were outside the 
Prussian lines, thanks to the vigorous 
action of the inhabitants some days 
before the capitulation. The Prussians 
had left only a small force there, and 
the Vierzonese, after having been pil- 
laged until they could stand it no longer, 
took their hitherto concealed arms, and. 
after much loss of life on both sides, 
drove out the invaders. The armistice 
intervened in time to save the town from 
the vengeance of the discomfited enemy. 

Our train was transferred to the 
branch line leading to Limoges and Pe- 
rigueux, and towards daylight arrived at 
the latter town, where we found thou- 
sands of Mobiles going in all directions, 
taking up positions to meet the enemy in 
case the new Assembly should declare 
for a continuance of the war. Here a 
train filled with deputies, among whom 
were Rochefort in a Garibaldian red 
shirt, Schcslcher, and others of the Rad- 
ical Paris delegation, was joined to ours. 
When we reached Bordeaux that after- 
noon we found that the Red Party had 
prepared a formidable demonstration for 
the arrival of its leaders ; and this was 
a gloomy indication for the future. On 



our way through Angers, Pithouviers, 
and numerous other towns around which 
there had been famous battles, we had 
seen the Prussians in great force, but 
had seen few native inhabitants of the 
unlucky villages and cities. Here and 
there a Prussian in fatigue uniform 
wore a French cap, which he had picked 
up on a battle-field. In some of the 
French railway stations, which had been 
fortified, French workmen were engaged 
in taking down the stockades and level- 
ling the earthworks, — most eloquent 
protestation against the prolongation of 
hostilities. Throughout the occupied 
country there was but one spirit manifest, 
— a spirit of conciliation; but. where 
the heavy hand of the invader had not 
been felt there was no doubt of the war- 
like determination of the people. 

Bordeaux was proud of the distinction 
conferred upon it, and offered as a meet- 
ing place of the Assembly its beautiful 
theatre, which stands in one of the many 
handsome squares of the city. We 
found that at least forty thousand 
strangers had flocked into Bordeaux to 
witness the final act of the great drama. 
The hotels were crowded, the streets 
were filled witli elegant equipages, in 
which the Parisians, dressed in black, 
the color of their despair, were con- 
stantly parading. Hundreds of soldiers 
wandered to and fro, many of them, 
I suspect, never getting to the regiments 
which were awaiting them. Every day 
detachments of awkward-looking youth, 
with new guns in their big hands, went 
through the principal streets, witli un- 
practised drummers at their head ; and, 
on the principal square, long lines of 
boys, at morning, noon, and night, were 
going through military drill under the 
guidance of gruff and red-nosed old ser- 
geants. On this same square stood three 
hundred cannon, which had but recently 



386 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM 



arrived from America : and iu the great 
shining river were moored numerous 
ships, said to contain ample store of 
muskets and other weapons from the 
same sympathetic country beyond t lie sen. 
No National Assembly had been held 
in France since 1849, and, as the actual 
machinery and reports and electoral 
commissions had to be conducted with 
the greatest care, it was not strange that 
the great body of representatives accom- 
plished little before the middle of Febru- 
ary. Postal communications were sus- 
pended in forty-three departments of 
France ; and, although Count Von P>is- 
lnarck had expressed his desire that the 
elections should he conducted without 
the slightest interference from the Ger- 
mans, it was well known that all letters 
and telegrams from the French govern- 
ment to its prefects and other local func- 
tionaries were opened and Carefully read 
by the Germans. A week alter the 
convocations not more than half the 
deputies had succeeded in reaching Bor- 
deaux; and the fifteen committees into 
which the seven hundred and fifty-three 
members were usually divided were in a 
very incomplete state. The President 

was even obliged to announce that twen- 
ty-five members would constitute a full 
committee tor the first few days. The 
Orleanists were said to be working with 
great earnestness, and, until the Parisdel- 
egation arrived, there were rumors every 
day that an Orleanist coup d'Etnt might 
lie expected. The fifteen journals of 
Bordeaux kept the air filled with most 
astonishing rumors, magnifying every 
trifling incident into a dancer for the 
country. Put the local National Guard 
behaved most sensibly, and organized a 
service, through the town and around the 
meeting place of the Assembly, which 
effectually prevented riots and attempts 
at riots. 



( >n the 13th the curtain rose on the 
first session in the great theatre. An 
aged ex-deputy of the old Republican 
Assembly was called to the chair. At his 
right sal the Moderates and the Royal- 
ists in very great numbers, conspicuous 
among them being M. Thiers and the 
Duke Decazes. On the left, calm and 
passionless, sat M. Jules Favre, bowed 
down by work and grief, and evidently 

anxious to escape particular notice. 
Next in order to him were Jules Simon, 
Emmanuel Arago, Pelletan, ( rlais-Bizoin, 
Garnier-Pages, the temporary minister 

of marine, and the stiff and decorous 
General Le Flo, Minister of War. 

Gambetta, who after his resignation 
from the government of National De- 
fense had been chosen as their delegate 
by the people of no less than ten depart- 
ments, was not present on this occasion ; 
but the thin audience of diplomats, 
ladies, and the favored journalists who 
had obtained tickets, was continually 
asking for him. The story of his organ- 
ization of the defense had set the seal 
upon his renown, which was now dis- 
tinctly great. 

Garibaldi hobbled in early in the after- 
noon, and sat on a bench remote from 
any party, an action which was misin- 
terpreted and commented upon with the 
amusing French attention to small details. 
In the diplomatic /»«/''• Lord Lyons, the 
Prince De Metternich, and the Chevalier 
Nigra of Italy were the only noticeable 
figures. After the opening speech was 
finished the action of the old hero was 
seen to have its significance, for he had 
sent a letter to the President's desk, say- 
ing that he renounced all claim to the 
title of deputy, with which he had been 
honored in several departments; and he 
sought later on to explain his reason for 
this refusal to accept the honor offered 
him, but the Right started a great tumult, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



387 



which almost caused a violent encounter 
between the opposing parties in the 
Assembly. The spectators in the galleries 
shouted and shook their lists like mad 
men and women ; and all this for nothing 
at all, save that Garibaldi had tried to 
make a speech ; that he 
had resigned as deputy, 
and was consequently out 
of order. 

At this session Jules 
Favre made a plain and 
straightforward speech, 
in which he gave into the 
Hands of the representa- 
tives of the people the 
resignation of the gov- 
ernment of National De- 
fense. "We arc ready," 
he said, "to answer to 
you for all our acts, con- 
vinced that we shall meet 
in their examination only 
the loyalty and justice 
by which yon will lie in- 
spired in all your deliber- 
ations." This speeeli of 
Jules Favre made a great 
sensation in Bordeaux. 
To an Anglo-Saxon 
nothing seemed more rea- 
sonable and proper than 
that the head of the 
provisional government 
should quietly lay his 
powers at the people's 
feet when the occasion 
demanded it; but the 
suspicious and questioning southern 
French had imagined that there would 
be a conflict for the possession of author- 
ity ; that M. Jules Favre and his col- 
leagues would object to giving up their 
places, and doubtless M. Favre's correct 
and dignified attitude increased the faith 
of these southern populations in the 



Republic. None who were in the theatre 
that day will forget the kindly voice, the 
classic head crowned with the silver 
hair, the eloquent, musical voice, that 
told the French people the value and 
dignity of conscience, and declared fe:n- 




' i '^-.-..',u ill ii!(. 1 ,: :j r,;!^|p;r 1 



mass of the 



GARIBALDI AT BORDEAUX. 

lessly to them that they were beaten 
and chastised for their sins of omission 
and commission. Jules Favre counselled 
the French nation to hasten its decision 
in this Assembly , and he was wise. In a 
day or two it was evident that M. Thiers 
and the party grouped directly around 
him were to have the complete control 
of events at Bordeaux. The venerable 



388 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CADI. 



statesman had taken up Ms abode at the 
H6tel de France, where he was within 
a few minutes' walk of the Assembly, and 
where all the leading statesmen, politi- 
cians, and generals also installed them- 
selves. 

M. Thiers, like all the other Repub- 
lican politicians who had come directly 
into contact with the Germans, realized 
that the Assembly must declare peace 
rather than war; and he said so pretty 
frankly in the interviews which he 
accorded to the seekers after truth. The 
Assembly was speed}" to recognize M. 
Thiers as its leader, and while it placed at 
its head as its working president M. Jules 
Grcvy, destined afterwards to become 
the President of the Republic, its first 
political proposition was that M. Thiers 
should be made chief of Executive 
Power, exercising his functions under 
the control of the National Assembly, 
with the advice and counsel of ministers 
to be chosen and presided over by him- 
self. Although all parties recognized 
him as a sincere patriot, all the ad- 
vanced and radical Republicans feared 
that he would try to bring back an Orlean- 
ist. lie repeatedly declared that he had 
no Orleanist sympathies, no hostile in- 
tentions to the newly launched Republic, 
anil nothing made him more indignant 
than hints that he was trifling with the 
liberties of the people. 

Early in the session the deputies from 
the departments of the Lower Rhine, 
the Upper Rhine, the Moselle, and the 
Meurthe presented their protest and decla- 
ration, stating that Alsace and Lorraine 
did not wish to he alienated from France ; 
that, associated for more than two cen- 
turies with the French in good as in evil 
fortune, they had always sacrificed them- 
selves to the national grandeur; and that 
they signified to Germany and to the 
world their firm deteimination to remain 



French whatever might befall them. " Eu- 
rope," they sail 1 in their declaration, " can 
neither permit nor ratify the desertion of 
Alsace-Lorraine by France." The clos- 
ing words of this document were very 
eloquent. "We hereby proclaim," said 
the signers of the declaration, " the for- 
ever inviolable right of the Alsatians 
and (he people of Lorraine to remain 
members of the great French family, and 
we swear both for ourselves and for those 
whom we represent, as well as for our 
children and our children's children, eter- 
nally and by every possible and practical 
means to insist upon this light against 
the usurpers." M. Keller, an eloquent 
and passionate man, was the leader of 
this delegation, and some of his speeches, 
in which he urged the country not to give 
up the provinces so firmly demanded by 
Germany, were characterized by great 
elevationof thoughtand beauty of diction. 
At the close of February the country 
had become fully enlightened as to the 
necessity of speedy peace. The capital 
was menaced with a huge insurrection, 
and it was thought prudent to prepare for 
a government at Versailles; but how to 
return there when it was occupied by the 
conqueror? Whichever way the deputies 
turned they were confronted by this hate- 
ful question of peace. There were as 
many opinions as men. Louis Blanc, 
Victor Hugo, Edgar Quinet, Rochefort, 
Schielchcr, Gambetta, and Henri Martin 
the historian ; Delescluze, with the shadow 
of his coming fate already on his gloomy 
brow ; Lockroy, Lane, Brisson, Edmond 
Adam, Clemenceau, the great and good 
M. Littre, Floquet, and so many others 
who have since taken a prominent part 
in the conduct of their country's des- 
tinies, — each had his scheme for steer- 
ing the nation through the breakers, and 
no one seemed willing to yield to any 
other. 



EUROTE IX STORM AND CALM. 



389 



There were moments when a vote of 
any distinct proposition for peace seemed 
impossible. 

M. Thiers had been elected deputy 
from twenty-six departments ; conse- 
quently there was but little opposition 
to the confirmation of his powers as chief 
of the executive, and in the session of 
the 19th he presented his new cabinet, in 
which Jules Favre, Jules Simon, and other 
distinguished Republicans had prominent 
places. After this was done, the Assem- 
bly took a recess; and meantime M. 
Thiers returned to Paris, and went to 
Versailles, to see what was the final will 
of the invader. 

At the close of the month lie returned 
quite worn out, the railway accident on 
the journey and the species of prostra- 
tion into which he had fallen, consequent 
on the heavy demands of the Prussians, 
seeming likely to cause a dangerous ill- 
ness ; but the old man's fiery soul soon 
revived the wearied frame, and he had 
been in town hardly an hour before he 
was at the Assembly, talking freely with 
the members in the committee rooms, 
and preparing his colleagues for a vote 
upon the final act, which had been elab- 
orated during his absence, and which 
was conceived as follows: — 

"The Chief of Executive Power of the 
French Republic proposes to the National 
Assembly the act, -the tenor of which is 
as under : — 

"The National Assembly, suffering 
the consequence of deeds with which it 
had nothing to do, approves the pre- 
liminaries of peace, the text of which is 
annexed, and which were signed at Ver- 
sailles, on the 26th of February, 1871 , by 
the Chief of Executive Power and the 
Minister of Foreign Affairs of the French 
Republic on the one hand ; 

"And on the other hand by the German 
Chancellor, Count Otto Von Bismarck- 



Schoenhausen, the Minister of State and 
of Foreign Affairs of His Majesty the 
King of Bavaria, the Minister of For- 
eign Affairs to His Majesty the King of 
Wurtemburg, and the Minister of State 
representing His Royal Highness the 
Grand Duke of Baden ; 

" And authorizes the Chief of Executive 
Power and the Minister of Foreign Affairs 
to exchange preliminaries of peace, the 
reading of which has been made in the 
National Assembly, and the authentic 
copy of which remains in the archives 
of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs." 

It was said that M. Thiers lost his tem- 
per during the final discussion with the 
German chancellor, and cried in a fretful 
humor, " Well, take the whole of France, 
and make the best of it! " but soon af- 
terwards was subdued and solemn, and 
proceeded to the serious business of the 
harrowing session. 

The 1st of March, the day after M. 
Thiers's return from Versailles, was 
full of gloom. M. Thiers had asked the 
Chamber to act with all speed, reasons 
of the greatest, gravity exacting that the 
treaty should be at once ratified. He 
added that " the ratification would be 
the signal for the return of our prisoners 
and the evacuation of a part of our ter- 
ritory, including Paris." This was un- 
derstood to mean that the Prussians 
were in Paris. The newspapers without 
exception appeared with their pages in 
mourning ; the ladies on the streets 
were all in black; the soldiers and offi- 
cers on duty around the theatre where 
the Assembly met wore crape upon their 
sleeves and on their weapons; there 
was no enthusiasm manifest as M. 
Thiers went to the Assembly, nor on his 
return. 

On the Place de la Comedie there 
was a motley crowd, which waited all 
through the session to hear the first 



390 



EUROPE IN STORM AND (AIM. 



news of the decision as to the country's 
destiny. The soldiers formed n hollow 
square, which kept back the masses 
from the approaches to the theatre; and 
all around them were hundreds of soldiers 
and officers, in greal variety of uniform, 
— Francs-Tireurs, in leather leggings, 
Alpine hats, and short swords ; brawny 
young Mobiles, with sunburnt faces and 
awkward gray coats ; showy gendarmes, 
in blue and black, with folds of white, 
silver cord upon their breasts, and with 
their carbines at the saddle-bows of 
their horses; rusty-looking liners in 
battle-stained uniforms, who were much 
petted and patted on the back by enthu- 
siastic ladies ; priests, division generals, 
newspaper men, army contractors, for- 
eigners, German spies, scores upon scores 
of men packed together, and waiting 
patiently for the close of the historic de- 
liberations. 

Trumpets rattled, and bugles brayed. 
Victor Hugo, followed by a little group 
of Radical literary men. went through the 
hollow square, hearing on every side 
whispers of admiration. No one seemed 
to have the courage to speak aloud. 
The Alsatian deputies were respectfully 
saluted. Gambetta had sent word that 
lie would come to the Assembly only 
when the discussion on peace began. 
Gambetta was ill. worried, insane, — said 
rumors in the crowd. — could not sleep 
nights, wandered up and down in his 
room, gazing out of window. The 
tremendous efforts which he had made 
since September had told greatly upon 

him. lie was pale, his thick black 
locks were in disorder, and there was a 
suggestive stoop in his shoulders, from 
which he never rceo\ ered. 

By good fortune, and the courtesy of 
the Chief of Executive Tower to M. 
Louis Blanc, I .secured a ticket for the 
session, and was somewhat surprised 



and confused to find that it ushered me 
into the presidential hnjr, M. Thiers 
doubtless having, with the courtesy tra- 
ditional in legislative circles, conferred 
his best ticket upon his sternest adver- 
sary. The great theatre was but dimly 
lighted : but there was no doubt that the 
deputies were in their places, for a roar 
of dispute came up from the orchestra 
stalls, and the President was furiously 
ringing his bell. In the loge <h- In l'n'si- 
dence, Madame Thiers, surrounded by 
a little group of charming girls, was 
quietly viewing the scene, and the vari- 
ous Radicals were pointed out to her 
and to the other guests by one of the 
priests of her parish church in Paris, 
whose comments on his political enemies 
were quaint and satirical. 

The new deputies, who had been pre- 
vented by exceptional circumstances in 
their departments from arriving at the 
first session, were now all in their 
places; therefore the President and all 
the members of his bureau had been 
placed upon the stage. The curtain was 
up, and displayed M. (Irevy with his 
head bowed on his desk. One might 
almost have fancied him at prayer, 
before he touched the bell a second time 
and arose. He uttered but one sentence, 
according the tribune to an Alsatian dep- 
uty, who at once began a vigorous 
protest in the name of those whom he 
represented against the giving up of the 
provinces whence he came. Then fol- 
lowed a hubbub. This called the 
painful matter too quickly to the surface. 
We were first to hear a lengthy report on 
the peace preliminaries, lint now came 
other protests against the cession of Al- 
sace and Lorraine, the members standing 
like Leonidas and his comrades in the 

gap. 

A little way "ft- in a quiet street, a 
man in the prime of life, and until re- 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



391 



cently robust in health, lay broken in 
spirit and dying. Every few minutes 
some one of the deputies sent from the 
Assembly to inquire after the brave- 
hearted man, who could not bear to see 
the disgrace of his country 
and the deal' old province 
whence lie came. The phy- 
sicians said lie would not live 
until the morrow, this fine- 
spirited Mayor of Strasbourg, 
and thai he might depart 
with the turn of the tide 
from light to dark. 

On the minister's bench, 
at the front on the right, M. 
Thiers and Jules Simon were 
in close conference, and 
shaking their heads dubious- 
ly from time to time. M. 
Simon was doubtless telling 
his chief how strong the Al- 
satian protests had grown 
since M. Thiers's visit to Ver- 
sailles, and what a battle 
they might expect that after- 
noon. 

Now came a huge man 
with a bulky manuscript. It 
was M. Le Franc, with the 
report of the dolorous pro- 
ceedings at Prussian head- 
quarters, and what his com- 
mittee, charged to examine 
the aforesaid, thought about 
it. ( hi the left there was great 
agitation. Hugo, Louis Blanc, 
Floquet, and others took seats 
together, as if arranging some preconcerted 
movement. The report of the committee 
seemed to evolve nothing except the 
horrible consequences that would over- 
whelm France should she refuse the 
treaty. "The prolongation of the armis- 
tice," said the reporter, " is refused. 
The forts of Paris are occupied, the 



enceinte is disarmed. Farther away 
the inimical armies are massed at the 
extreme limits of the district covered by 
the armistice. There they face our 
disorganized armies and our population, 




VICTOR HUGO AT BORDEAUX. 

that is already beginning to hope for 

peace." These words grated harshly On 
the ears of sonic patriots in the gallery, 
and they shouted out: "You are a Prus- 
sian, and so is every one who talks as 
you do ! " 

There was no applause when the re- 
porter had finished. Every one had 



392 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

listened with breathless interest, and many years, was now seen. M. Conti 

knew how lie should vote. Meantime demanded permission to address the 

Edgar Quiuet, representing the Republi- Assembly, and as he stepped down to 

<-an Left, entered the tribune, and claimed cross the aisle to the tribune a perfect 

to be heard because he had studied the howl of rage and derision followed him. 

policy of Germany and Prussia for a The agitation could not have been 

great part of his lifetime. lie was greater had the ex-Emperor suddenly 

listened to with impatience. '•The appeared as the embodied misfortune of 

feudal state of Germany," he said. France, the walking shadow of Woerth 

" avenges itself upon our free democratic and Sedan and Wilhelmshohe. The 

institutions by making them contribute Alsatian deputy gave way only for a mo- 

to our ruin. By this treaty peace is nut ment, and Conti proceeded to ascend the 

secured, but war, and war to the knife tribune steps. As he went up. a man 

will soon be resumed." lie declared, near the tribune darted out from a group 

" Prussia wishes not only our fall, but of friends, and was about to seize the 

our annihilation." daring Imperialist and hurl him down to 

M. Thiers started up, half angered on the floor below ; but two or three caught 

hearing M. Quinet thus denounce the him by the arms. Yet he struggled to get 

preliminaries of peace. Meantime, away, screamed for vengeance, did this 

through the crowds at the foot of the excitable Langlois of Paris, — Langlois 

tribune, a stout figure was vigorously who fought so well at Montretout, — and 

making its way. Five minutes after- the tumult continued. From gallery and 

wards this figure was in the tribune, and from diplomatic loges came expressions 

order in the Assembly was submerged of surprise, anger, and fright. Ladies 

in the most frightful confusion that ever arose as if about to leave their seats. 

upset a legislative body. The mention The President tried in vain to maintain 

of one almost-forgotten but odious order; but Conti, with indomitable Cor- 

name had done this. A deputy from sican persistance, had scaled the tribune, 

Strasbourg had ventured to say that the ami, despite the shouts, opened his lips 

proposed treaty was lit to he signed by to defend his late protector. The 

only one man, and that that man was spectacle of the excitable, passionate 

Napoleon III. At the utterance of this audience looking up at him as he spoke 

name, which awoke so many unpleasant must have almost appalled him. There 

memories, not only all deputies present were three men standing at the tribune's 

reproached the orator, but the hundreds foot, looking as if they could almost have 

of spectators muttered their comments, stilled him as he came down, lint Conti 

There was great excitement on the was very cool and collected. lie had 
ministerial bench, for the treaty had heard the cry of the Paris mob, and had 
been called odious and a death-warrant, received deskfuls of mysterious threat- 
Just as M. Thiers was about to reply, ening letters ; had seen many an ad vent- 
and had begun his speech in an angry ure in political life; had been a member 
voice, sonic one was heard defending the of another constitutional assembly, and 
Emperor. Every member of the As- voted for Cavaignac, as he afterwards 
sembly turned to see who it was. The said. That vote served his purpose but 
staid anil respectable form of M. Conti, little. lie hail gone oyer to the Impe- 
special secretary to the late Emperor for rialist faction, and been successively 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



393 



member of the Council of State, special 
secretary, and even senator. He had 
lost a line position by the Emperor's fall, 
but could not refrain from putting his 
head in through tlie curtains, and saying 
once more : " Here we are again." 

His plan was clear. He had heard 
that the Assembly proposed to declare 
the total wreck of the Empire. He 
feared it, and wished to rally the small 
forces at his disposition. There was 
perhaps a faint hope that universal 
suffrage might be diverted to the profit 
of the Empire once more. 

But he was compelled by the storm of 
hisses and reproaches to descend from 
the tribune, and, coming down, he met 
Victor Hugo, wlio glared fiercely at him 
and then turned his back upon him. 

A little knot of men, who had been 
consulting together for some ten minutes, 
now broke up. One of them went into 
the tribune, and in tremulous tones 
read a motion, hailed with furious bra- 
vos, confirming the downfall of Na- 
poleon HI. and his dynasty, as al- 
ready pronounced by universal suffrage, 
and declaring that dynasty responsible 
fur the ruin, the invasion, and the dis- 
memberment of France. 

Some few Bonapartists endeavored 
once more to protest ; but this was too 
much for the patience of M. Thiers, who 
fairly scrambled into the tribune, and, 
standing in his favorite attitude, with 
one hand placed on the front of the 
tribune, began a fiery little speech. " I 
have heard," he said, in his piping voice, 
" from the lips of sovereigns, that the 
Imperial princes you represent say that 
they were not blameworthy for the dec- 
laration of war; that it was France who 
should bear the blame. They say that 
we are the culpable ones. 1 wish firmly 
to deny this, in the presence of :ill 
Europe. No ! France did not wish for 



the war," — and here the old gentleman 
began fiercely to pound the tribune rail, — 
" it was you, who now protest, you alone, 
who wanted war ! Do not talk to us of 
the services rendered to France by the 
Empire ! " and, giving a final bang to 
the rail, he retired indignantly. 

Every member of the Assembly was 
now on his feet, and shouts of assent to 
M. Thiers's statement were heard from 
every quarter except one. The Corsi- 
cans rallied, however, and a lawyer from 
Bastia, named Gavini, attempted to 
speak ; but he was silenced, and when the 
President called on all who agreed to the 
proposition declaring the Empire dead 
to rise, only six — the half-dozen Impe- 
rial deputies — remained seated. 

Conti had certainly hastened the fu- 
neral of the Second Empire. 

Thenceforward the members of the 
Left had the session in their hands, and 
proceeded in regular order with their 
protests against the treaty. M. Bam- 
berger, the Alsatian deputy, who had 
unwittingly provoked the Conti incident, 
painted a glowing picture of the devo- 
tion of Strasbourg to France and her 
appeals for help. Then came Victor 
Hugo, with his slow and labored delivery, 
his long pauses for effect, his antitheses, 
his periods of passionate declamation, and 
his lion-like glances around the Assem- 
bly. His speech was disappointing, but 
was listened to with profound attention. 
His eulogy of Paris made the deputies 
uneasy. This was not a time to talk of 
heroisms: we were making peace; and, 
when he spoke of delivering Germany 
from her Emperor, even as Germany had 
delivered France from hers, a smile flit- 
ted across the faces of the deputies. 
The great poet was not in his best form 
in these early days after his return. It 
was only a short time after this session 
that he went out of the tribune in a fit of 



304 



ET'ROn-: IN STORM A. YD CALM. 



anger, wrote his resignation, and stalked 
away from the Assembly, because he had 
not been listened to with what he consid- 
ered proper attention. 

The only other speakersof importance 
on this memorable day were M. Vache- 
rot, the noted philosopher, and at that 
time one of the Mayors of Paris, who 
spoke earnestly and with deep conviction 
for peace, because, in his opinion, war was 
impossible. Time, he maintained, would 
show the Prussians that they could not 
deal with populations as with lands. 

Louis Blanc had reserved for himself 
in the day's programme the enunciation 
of 1 1n* non possiimus and the conscien- 
tious review of the right and wrong of 
the treaty. His speech was, in some 
respects, the best, certainly the most ex- 
haustive, which the Assembly heard, 
and was listened to with unflagging in- 
terest, from the fine opening statement, 
thai nothing was durable here below 
save justice, to the close, when he begged 
the Assembly to declare to Europe 
thai to take away the quality of French- 
men from Frenchmen exceeded her 
power. The audience was spellbound. 
The right and wrong discussed thus at 
this meeting would not have been 
listened to had a less skilful and pro- 
found thinker been in the tribune. 
There was something subtle in Louis 
Blanc's characterization of Prussia as a 
monarchy whose enlargement was due 

solely to tWO crimes, — the theft of 

Silesia and the division cf Poland 
His summing up of the situation was as 
true as epigrammatic. " It is not be- 
tween war to the death and peace that 
you are required to choose : it is be- 
tween war for the maintenance of law 
and right, and peace for the violation of 
right; between war for honor and peace 
at the price of honor." 

General Chansjarhier's feeble voice 



and tottering frame next appealed for 
peace, and the venerable warrior thought 
it his duty to cast a stone into the camp 
of the Left, whose definitions in favor 
of the moral right he did not recognize. 
•• I fear," he said, " that such discus- 
sions will make the enemy lose its re- 
spect for this Assembly." 

Deputies from the department of the 
Vosges, who thought it their duty to 
abstain from voting because they could 
not bear the thought of prolonged war, 
yet would not vote their own separation 
from their countrymen, were rebuked in 
a liery manner by the only one from the 
same department who had not joined 
them. This rebuke brought M. Thiers 
once more to the tribune to ask all to 
vote loyally, according to their con- 
sciences, and not to trifle with false patri- 
otism. 

At last the deputy, Keller, from Alsa- 
tia, had his final appeal, in which he 
called the proposed treaty an injustice, 
a falsehood, a dishonor. Then came 
the vote, and an hour of weary waiting 
for the result : and when the members 
had all passed over the platform on 
which stood the fatal urn. and the sec- 
retaries had slowly counted, the bell was 
rung, ami every one of the deputies and 
nearly every person present stood up to 
hear the result declared. 

The vote was for peace. 546 to 107. 
The treaty which took' away Alsatia and 
the greater part of Lorraine from France 
was ratified; the ransom of five millions 
of francs was agreed to; and the broken 
armies of France might now dissolve and 
go back to the plough, the forge, and the 
counting-room. 

M. Keller, who had been sitting bowed, 
with his face hidden in his hands, while 
his colleagues voted, now climbed tip the 
steps once more, and there was a dead 
silence as he stood confronting the As- 



EUROVF. IN STORM AND CALM. 



395 



seiubly. As he bade farewell to those 

in whom he had not found protect! 

and with his colleagues announced his 
withdrawal from the Assembly, his atti- 
tude was full of a noble dignity. ''I 
call," he said, " to take up the sword, 
every man who desires to have this de- 
testable treaty burned and trampled upon 
as soon as it is possible." 

Then the uniformed usher opened the 
door of our box, and we regained the 
open air. It was bright sunlight when 
we entered, darkness of night when we 
came out ; and the darkness had fallen 
upon the hearts of the people. 

Next day we heard that the good 
Mayor of Strasbourg was dead. The sil- 
ver cord was loosed by the cruel shock of 
the news of the vote for peace. Hun- 



dreds of deputies and all the foreigners 
visiting Bordeaux went in respectful 
procession to the railway station when 
the Mayor's little funeral started for 
.Strasbourg, and a few days afterwards 
the populace of the conquered city 
poured forth by thousands to the ceme- 
tery where the Mayor, who was univer- 
sally beloved, was buried. Patriotic 
speeches were made at the open grave, 
although a display of French sentiment 
in Strasbourg was dangerous in those 
days; audit is said that when tin- pro- 
cession, returning to the gates of the 
towu, was halted, according to custom, 
by the sentinel, who said, "Who goes 
there?" the whole crowd in concert, and 
as if moved by one unanimous impulse, 
answered, " France! " 



596 



EUROPE l.\ STOIIM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER F( >RTY-TWO. 

Garibaldi and Hi- l!"l. --NVw Italy. -The Upgrowth of Her Nationality. — Causes that Hindered It 

and C luccd t<> It. — The Influence "I' Napoleon Third. — His Fatal Mistake in Counselling the 

Alliance of Prussia and Italy. — Downfall of the Old French Monarchical Policy. - - The Hesitation 
of France. — Occupation of Rome l>\ tin' Italian Government. — The Pontifical Zouaves. 



GARIBALDI was one of tin- lions tit 
Bordeaux so long as he chose t < > 
remain in the extemporized capital, and 

t" show himself in the street, or in the 
lobbies of the Assembly, from which lie 
htul resigned with so much dignity. His 
serene and heroic countenance, his frank 
gaze, his dignified carriage, and his slow 
ami imposing gestures were all carefully 
noted and chronicled. His sayings were 
reported with utmost fidelity, and where- 
ever he went he was followed by attentive 
stenographers. 

The Radicals, ami. indeed, most of the 
advanced Republicans, did not hesitate to 
call him the only successful genei'al on 
the French side in the recent campaign. 

When he left the Assembly, after hav- 
ing given in his resignation, he made a 
little address on the steps of the theatre, 
in which hf said that he had always 
known how to distinguish monarchical 
France, the France of the clergy, from 
Republican France. The first two. to his 
thinking, merited only execration, 'mi Re- 
publican France was worthy of all love and 
devotion. The Radicals were so pleased 
with Garibaldi that when the Commune 
was installed tit the Hotel de Ville, in the 
following month, tin appointment in what 
ii was pleased to call its army was given 
him ; but the grand old patriot did not 
soil his skirts with contact with those 
noisy swashbucklers who steeped their 
brains in wine, and damped their swords 
in the blood of their brethren. He was 



tin eagle, but did not consort with vul- 
tures ; a hero of insurrections, who had 
never forgotten thai he was a gentleman. 

The presence of Garibaldi at Bor- 
deaux brought forcibly to mind the great 
changes which htul been going on in the 
Italian peninsula since the influence of 
the second French Empire htul begun to 
weaken and totter towards its tall. In 
these events Garibaldi had played a shin- 
ing part. His career had often been 
checked by his fortune ; the French Em- 
pire, which lie had so detested, had 
placed its bayonets tit the disposition of 
his adversaries ; but he lived to see 
" Italy free from the Alps to the sea," 
and to witness the complete discomfiture 
of the man who in his early and ardent 
youth had professed a warm enthusiasm 
for the cause of Italian nationality, and 
who in his mature middle life htul found 
the support of his nobler ideals incom- 
patible with the success of his Imperial 
fortunes. 

Tlic volcanic forces which had been 
so mysteriously tit work in Europe for 
many years htul, as it were, shaken and 
fused together into one composite and 
homogeneous mass the long separated 
States of Italy. The hind of volcanoes 
ami earthquakes htul been convulsed 
politically, and to its lasting profit. The 
great movement in favor of Italian unity 
was no more to be checked by the hand 
of the fallen French Emperor, or to be 
hindered by a show of French bayonets 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



397 



in Rome than the lightning in the heavens 
or the sweep of the winds. The suc- 
cession of wars from 18G4 to 1870, by 
which Prussia asserted her supremacy on 
the Continent, culminating in the tre- 
mendous struggle and series of victories 
which we have just outlined, had defi- 
nitely closed the era of the old monarch- 
ical policy in France, a policy which con- 
sisted in pushing the French frontier 
as far as possible away from Paris and 
in preventing the cooperation of small 
states which were neighbors to France. 

Although it is perhaps wise to believe 
in the mysterious dispensation which 
brings about the unity of peoples, and 
creates, despite the harshness of fate 
and of circumstance, new and powerful 
nations, it is still an open question 
whether Italy and Germany would have 
been unified within their respective 
bounds for a generation to come had it 
not been for the weakness of the late 
policy of Napoleon III. Among the 
most sincere friends of the late Emperor 
there are many critics who maintain that, 
when the French Emperor advised Italy 
to make its alliance with Prussia in 1866, 
he opened the door to all the disasters 
which finally fell upon his government,. 
This treaty, signed in April of 1866, bore 
within its breast the germ of Italian 
unity, the German empire, the suppres- 
sion of the Temporal Power, the fall of 
the Imperial dynasty, the dismember- 
ment of France, and the Communal in- 
surrection. This is a French view, 
which is perhaps pessimistic ; yet we 
have on record the singular saying of 
Bismarck, when he came back from 
Biarritz, where the arrangements for the 
treaty had been made, " If Italy had 
not existed we should have had to invent 
her ! " 

Napoleon's assent to this treaty was 
singular when contrasted with his vacil- 



lating attitude with regard to Rome; 
but in those days of 186G he had begun 
the policy which conducted him to his 
ruin. He counted without his host 
when he founded all his hope upon the 
issue of a conflict between Austria and 
Prussia, a conflict which he hoped to pro- 
voke by abetting the alliance between 
Prussia and Italy. It is not strange that 
the French monarchists call the man who 
was their Imperial master for half a gen- 
eration a •• fatal man," for he rendered 
the future practice of their time-conse- 
crated policy utterly impossible. M. 
Thiers, the old and wily monarchist, had 
sounded his note of alarm in the great 
debate on the Roman question in the Corps 
Ligislatif'm December of 1.S07, when he 
cried out: " No sovereign should volun- 
tarily create on his own frontier a State 
of twenty-five millions of inhabitants. 
Italy, in becoming a great monarchy, 
at the same time becomes a. disturbing 
agent and an instrument of revolution. 
The Germanic federation, which for 
twenty years was the main authority 
for maintaining the peace of the world, 
has disappeared, and has been replaced 
by a military monarchy, which disposes 
of forty millions of men ; and you are 
placed between two unities, one which 
you made and the other which you per- 
mitted." 

This wail of M. Thiers for the lost 
balance of power was hailed with genuine 
delight by the aspiring spirits in Italy 
and Germany, who were panting for the 
consummation of national unity. 

Had Napoleon III. kept his plighted 
word to the French Republic before 1852, 
perhaps the dream of Italy might have 
been sooner realized, and there might 
have been some hope of a Latin feder- 
ation, — hope which may now be set aside 
as vain. But Napoleon as Emperor 
really set back the progress of Italy 



398 



EUROPE f.Y STORM AM) CALM. 



towards lull national stature All iliat 
he bad clone for the country in 1859 was 
as naught in the eyes of the Italians so 
long as his bayonets glittered in the 
streets of Rome. When Rouher in liis 
famous speech said that Italy would 
never enter Rome, the revolutionists 
beyond the Alps trembled with wrath, 
and General De Failly's cool remark that 
the '" chassepGts had done marvels" at 
Mentana awoke resentment in the Ital- 
ian mind which the generous French 
nation, committed to the policy of a 
government which it detested, was very 
far from suspecting. 

What wonderful changes had come to 

Italy between 1867 and the close of that 
fateful vcar of 1870! On that same 
September day when the Crown Prince 
of Prussia entered Versailles with his 
victorious army, the troops <>!' King Vic- 
tor Emmanuel of Iialv entered Rome 
altera brief resistance from the Pope's 
soldiers. M. Iiouher's scornful prophecy 
had proved false. Italy, on that day 
which brought disaster to her ancient 
ally, stood up proud and strong in the 
face of the world, in full possession of 
the heritage of which she had been de- 
prived for more than three hundred and 
fifty years. What, Italian unity meant 
to Italians it is almost impossible for 
Americans tounderstand. This unity had 
been looked forward to for so lone, and 
bad been so persistently denied them, 
that if seemed almost foolish to hope on. 
In 1848, the greal period of universal 
revolution in Europe, the Italians almosi 
clutched the glittering prize ; then il was 
swept out of their reach once more, and 
only such stern priests of liberty as 
Mazzini could keep the lamp of their 
faith burning brightly in the weary 
years. All the way down through the 
generations from Jul ins II., who preached 
the crusade against the barbarians and 



strangers in the " lovely land of Italy." 
the country was hopelessly divided. 
" The Italians." says a despairing writer 
on Italy, in 1848, "took part, some 
with France, some with Spain, until at 
last all Italy laid her weapons at the 
feet of the fortunate Austrian in 1530. 
All the interval between Julius II. and 
Pius VI., between Charles Y. anil Na- 
poleon, was, for that country, a long 
agony. Italy was dying. — dying by 
inches, — dying unconsciously. Tie' 
chill of death was at the heart; but, by 
unnatural anomaly from the wonted 
course of nature, symptoms of vitality 
weic still discernible at the extremities. 

Milan and Naples were lost ; but Venice 

ami Genoa still stood calm amongst 
ruins of mediaeval fortune; and Rome, 
papal Rome, yet preserved some of its 
prestige, — the vain shadow of spiritual 
sovereignty. Moreover — and that was 
yetathird style of supremacy — menstill 
looked up to Italian genius; for politi- 
cal annihilation had not yet brought with 
it mental prostration and degeneracy. 

••These circumstances contributed to 
keep up the sad illusion of an Italian 
existence. The foreign ruler was per- 
manently established in Lombardy, the 
centre of Italian wealth in modern limes. 
He lorded it over both Sicilies, ami from 
these, his head-quarters, hisnod was law 

at Florence and Pome. He kept the 
remaining States in continual alarm by 
open threats, by perfidious intrigues; 
and these had no defense against him. 
besides the most scllish, Sllbservien t. 
pusillanimous policy. 

"All this for nearly three centuries. 
At the breaking out of the French Revo- 
lution, in 1789, the death-blow was 
scarcely needed. Napoleon, in 17'.I7, 
or his conquerors, in 1814, blotted out 
Venice' and Genoa, the last cities of 
genuine Italian growth; 1820 and 1831, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



399 



stripped Naples, Piedmont, and Rome 
— those foreign structures of the Holy 
Alliance, on Italian ground — ■ of their 
tinsel of nominal self-existence, by 
throwing them helplessly, for very life, 
on Austrian protection. From the Alps 
to the sea the Austrian made himself at 
home. Where he was not to-day he 
might be expected to-morrow. All the 
princes still bearing the name of inde- 
pendent were only the first of his vassals. 
Every one of the Italian States presented 
a melancholy spectacle of a house 
divided against itself, and it was espe- 
cially this deep-rooted animosity between 
government and people that made Italy 
Austrian throughout. It was a state of 
things to make many a patriot wish for 
an actual annexation of this mere Aus- 
trian dependency to the Austrian mon- 
archy. The Roman, Neapolitan, and 
Sardinian governments were, in fact, 
Austrian with a vengeance." Each suc- 
cessive revolution in Italy, from 1820 to 
1848, whether a demand for a French 
charter or a Spanish constitution, attack 
upon priestly government or rash insur- 
rection by hot-headed patriots, without 
any definite aim except hatred of the 
Austrian, was crushed with promptness 
and decision. But this very vigor of the 
Austrian had for its result the concen- 
tration of all Italian energies into the 
national parties. 

Mazzini, early in 1848, declared that 
the only question henceforth iu Italy was 
the national one. and that all questions 
as to the forms of internal policy must 
be put off until after the close of the war 
of independence. 

From 1849 to 1859 Austria was then 
all-powerful in the Italian peninsula. 
At Modena, at Florence, at Parma, at 
Naples, and at Rome, the Italians were 
crushed beneath the Austrian taxes 
ami the military requisitions. The Lom- 



bard-Venetian kingdom had become an 
Austrian province. So great were the 
excesses of the Austrians in the penin- 
sula that Count Cavour, one of the 
builders and founders of Italian unity, 
boldly denounced them ; and it was not 
long before Piedmont and its sovereign, 
whose minister Cavour was, saw the 
Austrian armies arrayed against it. 
Then, in a generous moment, Napoleon 
III. espoused the cause of Piedmont, 
and in swift succession came the battles 
of Montebello, Palestro, Magenta, and 
Marignan. Lombardy was swept clear 
of the Austrians by the victorious French 
and Italians, and the sanguinary en- 
counter of Solfcrino brought the cam- 
paign to an end. 

As the price of the aid which Napoleon 
gave the Italians in the conflict with the 
Austrians, the provinces of Nice ami 
Savoy were transferred to France ; and 
this had been agreed upon by a secret 
arrangement, which was not made pub- 
lic until after the peace. When the 
populations who had been thus bodily 
removed from one government to another 
were called upon to express their ideas 
on the change, the majority of the votes 
were favorable to French annexation, 
and Nice has become, in these latter days, 
such a jewel iu the Mediterranean garden 
of cities, such a popular midwinter 
capital of fashionable pomp and pleasure, 
that the Italians look longingly towards 
it, and weep that they cannot have it 
back again. 

Out of this war came the movement 
which resulted in the foundation of the 
constitutional monarchy of Victor Em- 
manuel. Florence, Parma, Modena, and 
Bologna declared the downfall of their 
old governments, and voluntarily an- 
nexed themselves to the kingdom of 
Sardinia. This was the first step toward 
the welding together of the uatiou. 



40(1 



El ROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



In Sicily there were insurrections. 
Garibaldi, :it the head of hi* famous 
" Thousand," entered Palermo. Sicily 
was pacified, and Garibaldi came back 
to Naples in triumph. The events from 
that time to the present are too well 
known to need more than hasty recapitu- 
lation here. Victor Emmanuel entered 
Naples as its sovereign in 18G0. The 
populations of Southern Italy finally 
acknowledged his power. The Italian 
Parliament met in Turin in 18C1, and in 
March of that year the kingdom of Italy 
was proclaimed. Then Garibaldi mani- 
fested a liery impatience to march upon 
Home ; but he could not persuade the 
King to adopt his way of thinking, so 
he swept down into Sicily, where he 
raised a. valiant little army, ami was 
well on his way to Pome to tight the 
final battle, which would have completed 
Italian unity, when the King's troops 
met him at Aspromonte. and held him 
back. 

All this time France was the chief 
obstacle to the conquest of Pome. In 
1864 the French Empire concluded with 
Italy a treaty, by which Pome- and its 
neighborhood were to be respected by 
the Italians, even after the French 
troops, which had long been the main 
support of the papacy, were withdrawn 
from Pome. The Roman question ever 
since the expedition of 1859 had been 
a source of grave embarrassment to 

Napoleon III. At, one time be rec - 

mended the Pope to abandon a part of 
bis temporal empire to save the rest. 

lie even counselled him to give up every- 
thing except Rome; at another, he 
caressed the project of an Italian federa- 
tion which should be presided over by 
the Pope. Doubtless many of these 
things were suggested by the influence 
of the Empress, who was an inflexible 
opponent of any movement towards 



deserting the Pope. As for Pius IX., 
he always opposed bis non possumus 
with a sweet and serene firmness to 
every expedient which the Emperor of 
the French suggested. 

The Italian government first mani- 
fested its direct independence of France 
when Napoleon III. endeavored to 
tempt it to the rupture of its alliance 
with Prussia by offering to secure 
Yenetia for King Victor Emmanuel. 
This, thought Napoleon, was a prize 
which would thoroughly dazzle the new 
Kiug. The Queen of the Adriatic had 
long been in mourning in presence of 
the harsh invader. It would be a grace- 
ful act, ami would look well in history, 
to interfere for her restoration to her 
kindred, lint the Italian court explained 
that it was too late to break friendship 
with Prussia. The Italians fully appre- 
ciated the importance of their new con- 
nection, and realized that they could 
free Venice without Napoleon's aid. 
The French Emperor was taken between 
the forward movements in Italy ami 
Germanv '.ike one of those prisoners of 
the Middle Ages, immured in a cell with 
moving walls, which came slowly together 
to crush him. 

Italy had serious misfortune by land 
and by sea when she entered the ureal 
and swift campaign of 18G6 side by side 
with Prussia. She came to grief by 
land at Custozza, and by sea at Lissa ; 
but Austria was crushed by the northern 
German, and Victor Emmanuel came 
in triumph into the historic square of 
St. Mark to welcome the bride of the 
sea back into the family from which she 
had been so long parted. Old Prince 
Von Metternich, who was a mauvaise 
tongue, when he heard that Napoleon 
III. was coquetting with Cavour, had 
predicted that the revolutionary empire 
"would perish on the Italian breakers." 



EUROPE IN STORM ASP CALM. 



401 



The old diplomat was well-nigh omnis- 
cient in all things temporal, and he 
doubtless foresaw the trend of events 
taking Italy into the arms of Prussia. 

The French Empire had withdrawn 
its troops from Home in 1864, after the 
famous September convention ; but, in 
18G7, Garibaldi, who was a keen ob- 
server of the direction of the wind in 
European polities, began anew a march 
upon Rome with his volunteers. He 
saw that the French Empire, up to that 
time the pivot upon which the polities of 
the Continent revolved, was beginning f > 
fail; so hi' boldly stepped across the 
frontiers, which Italy, by the conven- 
tion, had agreed to keep sacred from 
intrusion. The Pope was threatened in 
his St. Peter's chair. Napoleon was 
forced to stop in his long list of enter- 
tainments to sovereigns during the 
brilliant festival of the Exhibition, and 
to send out an iron-clad squadron, laden 
with French troops, to Civita Vecchia. 
Europe was struck with the celerity with 
which this French expedition was or- 
ganized. Prussia was a little dazed by 
it, and for a short time wondered if it 
had been mistaken in its estimate of I lie 
French military disorganization. The 
prestige of France, which hail steadily 
lowered after Sadowa, rose up again. 
But Meiitana was a mistake ; and where- 
as at the moment of the expedition the 
French Imperialists fancied that they 
had recovered their hold upon Italy, they 
had done the one thing which had finally 
ruined their influence. 

Italy made one last effort to secure the 
aid of France in its advance upon Rome, 
when it sent General Menabrea to Vichy 
in 1869, to say to Napoleon III. that if 
he would agree to the embodiment of all 
the Papal states, with the exception of 
Rome and its immediate environs, in the 
kingdom of Italy, that kingdom was 



ready to make with France an offensive 
and defensive alliance. How different 
might have been the results of the war 
which France was fatally destined to 
have with Prussia, if this Italian offer 
had been accepted ! 

General Menabrea made spiteful re- 
marks afterwards about Napoleon's 
refusal, which he doubtless attributed to 
family influences. " If is very unlucky," 
he said to a French diplomat in Florence 
in 1871, " that we did not conclude that 
alliance, because, the first duty of two 
allies being the reciprocal control of 
their military effectives and resources, 
we should have been able to show the 
Emperor that he was not in a condition 
to make war." 

To the French troops in Rome suc- 
ceeded a kind of international guard, 
composed of young gentlemen from the 
aristocratic families of various European 
countries, and of adventurers of more 
or less renown. The life which this 
body of defenders of the faith led during 
the three years before the entry of the 
King of Italy into Pome was hardly an 
agreeable one. There is a good story 
which illustrates one of the odd phases 
of life in this corps. Early in 1868 a 
young man of noble family, who was 
burning to distinguish himself in military 
deeds, went to Koine, and laid his sword 
at the feet, of the Pope, or, in other 
words, enlisted in the Pontifical Zouaves. 
On the day after his enlistment, he re- 
ported to his superior officer at a dirt}' 
barracks in an obscure quarter of the 
Eternal City, and inquired what he could 
do to fill up his leisure. 

" Go into the court-yard," said the 
officer, " and peel potatoes." 

The young man of noble family made 
a respectful salute, but said that he did 
not understand. Whereupon he received 
a bluff military rebuke, and was told 



402 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

thai Ii<> should go into the court-yard The humiliation of this gentleman, 

:iud peel potatoes, and if he could nol who had had dreams of military glory, 

understand an order when it was given, and found that he had nothing but menial 

he could take three days in the guard- services to perform in a thill garrison, 

house, which were forthwith bestowed baffles description, 
upon him. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



403 



CHAPTER FORTY-THREE. 

The Great Pier Between the Mediterranean and the Adriatic. — Brindisi and Naples. — The Revival of 
Commerce. — Industrial Exhibitions. — Universal Progress. — The Struggle Between Church and 
State. — Pius IX. and Victor Emmanuel. — The High Priest of European Conservatism. — The " Non 
Po88umii8 " of the Vatican. — Familiar Traits of Victor Emmanuel. 



" TTALY," once said a witty Italian 
-L friend of mine, " is a great pier 
extended from the south of Europe into 
the Adriatic and Mediterranean seas, 
ami Brindisi and Naples are its pier 
heads." 

This word " pier," in connection with 
the " lovely laud of Italy," seemed, at 
first, to have a jarring sound, for it sug- 
gested things commercial, which had not 
been in recent times habitually associated 
with the peninsula ; hut events have 
proved that no expression could have 
been more apt to describe new Italy of 
the period of unification. 

In fact, from Brindisi and from Naples 
flow to the east great currents of com- 
merce which are constantly increasing in 
volume. England sends her generals, 
her treasures, and her mails to the 
Indies by the Italian route: and the port 
of Naples is never without half a dozen 
steamers from the Orient, arriving or 
departing from it, as the most convenient 
point at which to touch in Southern 
Europe, before making the long sweep 
eastward. The piercing of the Alps by 
numerous tunnels, by the mighty one of 
Mont Cenis, which wascompletedin 1*71 ; 
and in these latter years by that of the St. 
Gothard, has transformed the railway 
system of Italy as by magic, and has 
opened new channels for trade, making 
of ancient and illustrious Genoa the dan- 
gerous rival of Marseilles ; giving to 
Venice an impulse which no longer 



seemed possible for her, and binding, by 
bands of iron and unity of mercantile in- 
terests, Germany and Italy together as 
no political alliance could possibly bind 
them. 

The cities, so numerous in Italy, 
where the long division into petty states 
had fostered the up-building and the 
rivalry of capitals, have all had a touch 
of the new inspiration. Turin and 
Florence have ceased to mourn over the 
departure of the court to Koine. Turin 
has sprung into first-rate business im- 
portance. Florence, for a long time 
weighed down by municipal misfortunes, 
is beginning to recover its splendor of 
old lime. Milan, and Verona, and 
Venice, and Genoa no longer merit the 
title of cities of the past. They are in 
immediate and constant relations with 
the living and enthusiastic present. But 
exacting critics say that this northern 
section is not real Italy ; that it is so 
closely allied with German lands on the 
one hand, and with France on the other, 
that its characteristics are composite, 
and that the enterprise, the quick energy 
of the northern races, may be well mani- 
fest there, while it will be entirely lack- 
ing in the sleepy and sensuous south. 

This is an unjust criticism, and one 
which the enterprise of Naples, tin: won- 
derful upbuilding of Rome, the activity 
manifest even in Sicily — much agitated 
by politics and volcanoes, — amply dis- 
prove. At the present writing. Naples 



404 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

is about to I"' girdled with a metropoli- he was one of the great artificers of the 
tan railway, — an institution which Paris national unity. It is due to his immense 
dors not yet possess; and in most of the persistence and unflagging industry that 
southern Italian cities, iu public build- the Apennines, which ohee divided Italy 
iugs, in municipal institutions cf every into numerous distinct basins which 
kind, the march of progress lias been seemed to be shut out from communiea- 
as rapid as in any other country in tion with each other by natural barriers, 
Europe. The rise in the value of Italian are to-day pierced by live railway lines 
railway stocks was so swift as to cause a between Naples and Foggia, Koine and 
great and very agreeable surprise to Aneona, Florence and Bologna, Genoa 
thousands of investors, who could not and Milan, Savona and Turin. New 
believe it possible that the once divided lines arc constantly created, and the 
and helpless Italian land had produced Piedmontese, the Lombards, the Romans, 
such results. The railways of the penin- the Neapolitans, the Sicilians, who once 
suhi are shortly to be divided into two lived as much apart as it they had been 
great systems, the Adriatic and the separated bv great oceans, now inter- 
Mediterranean ; and these, with their mingle, exchange sentiments and im- 
tiibutary lines running in all directions, pressions ; and the work of welding the 
will soon develop the rich agricultural nation together goes bravely on. Indus- 
lields. which have long been destitute of dial exhibitions of great importance and 
facilities for communication. In Italy, extent have, within the last few years, 
as in many of the newer States of the given a powerful aid to the completion 
American Union, the narrow-gauge rail- of Italian unity. The exhibitions at 
way is a popular institution ; and then' Milan and Turin attracted hundreds of 
is an Italian company specially organ- thousands of visitors from the southern 
ized for creating these beneficent and portion of the peninsula : have prompted 
inexpensive arteries of commerce wher- the creation of new industries, and opened 
ever they are needed. new channels ; and they did away with 

The commercial movement, up to the the stupid provincialism for which the 

time of the sudden developmeiil of the Italians had long been justly reproached, 

international railway system, had been and put money into circulation where it 

entirely concentrated upon the coast, had hitherto been almost unknown. 
ami especially upon the western side. In 18G7 beggars were so abundant in 

where were the ports of Genoa, Leghorn, Italy that one could not. take a stroll in 

Naples, and the great Sicilian cities of the street or country without being 

Palermo, Messina, Catania, and Syra- besieged by them. In 1ST" beggars 

ciise. No sooner were the Alps and the had become a less frequent specta- 

Apennincs tunnelled than the Italian cle, both at the great highways of 

trade with the outer world doubled in travel and ill the interior districts. 

volume, ami between 1861 and 1872 Emigration, the new system of railway 

flu' commerce of Italy with Austria-Hun- service, the drafting away of the strong 

gary rose from sixty-seven millions of and capable from districts where they 

francs to four hundred and forty-seven had been too numerous into others 

millions. where they could be utilized in manu- 

The civil engineer is a personage much facturing and agriculture, the upbuild- 

respected iu Italy, and with reason, for ing of a splendid new navy, — all these 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



405 



things had awakened the once depend- 
ent and .shiftless populations to a sense 
of dignity. 

The Italian suddenly appeared in the 
great commercial towns of France and 
Spain, in Algeria, and in the Levant. 
When he found the taxation in his home 
district too heavy to bear he closed his 
cottage door, and. taking his wife and 
children by the hand, departed for the 
nearest seaport, and set his foot upon 
the ships which took him to South 
America or to other lands beyond the 
sea. Hut he always took away with him 
the hope that he might return to .share 
the new future, which now looked so 
bright and promising. 

Literature, painting, sculpture revived ; 
and, although those liberal arts in which 
Italy had once led the world were ap- 
proached with that timidity which is 
natural in the race that has always had 
the best models of the greatest masters 
before its eyes, the achievements were at 
once honorable and many. Visitors to 
the Milan Exhibition, in 1881, were con- 
stantly expressing their astonishment, as 
they passed from aisle to aisle of the 
great palace in which were grouped the 
products of Italian industry and ail. It 
was evident that the country had re- 
sumed its old position in the domain of 
industrial art ; that the glass-makers of 
to-day in Venice were no whit inferior to 
their splendid predecessors of the middle 
ages, and (hat there were still to be found 
men who knew the lustre of majolicas, 
and who understood the subtlety of 
Roman form in jewelry, in mosaics, and 
in the inlaying of delicate furniture. In 
the galleries devoted to painting, the 
critics from Paris, from London, and 
Vienna expressed their holy horror at 
the deep blue of the skies, the purple 
waters, and the general impression of 
dazzling sunshine, opalescent wave, and 



tropical moonlights; but these critics 
could not deny that the new Italian 
painters painted from nature, and that 
in their devotion to subjects taken from 
their own laud and beneath their own 
sky there was a national feeling as keen 

and as pr unced as that which had 

been manifest in politics in the peninsula 
from 1SGG to the occupation of Koine, 
lint this very nationalization of painting 
seemed to shut out the Italian painters 
of average merit from the great exhibi- 
tions in northern Europe, to which they 
had sometimes sent specimens of their 
work. They had emancipated them- 
selves from the school of Fontainebleau 
and Barbizon, and, instead of painting 
the fleecy skies, the grays and blues of 
noil hern French schools, the deep and 
soft greens, and the dells and lakes 
and glades enshrouded in the luminous 
haze of Corot, Diaz, and Rousseau, had 
put uiion canvas the glories of Sorrento 
and of Naples Ray, the pine woods of 
Ravenna and the sandy slopes by the 
Adriatic, or the gorgeous colors on the 
Venetian horizon, where fantastic archi- 
tecture seems to spring by magic from 
sea and sky inextricably blended. In 
literature there had not been so great a 
decay as in the other arts ; lint the ful- 
filment of the national aspirations un- 
doubtedly gave it a. firmer purpose and a 
stronger vitality. 

Out of the twenty-eighf millions of 
native Italians the great majority are de- 
voted to agriculture. The culture of the 
silk-worm, of rice, of the vine, of oil, of 
ligs, raisins, almonds, chestnuts, oranges, 
lemons, can be made profitable with 
smaller expense than in any Other 
European country. The wine and silk 
industries have within tiie last, few years 
assumed great importance. Italy ex- 
ports to France millions upon millions of 
gallons of wines, inferior in point of 



4015 



EUROPE IX STOi:.1t AM) CALM 



fabrication to those of her neighbor State, 
hut sound and wholesome, and often 
used in the making of those imitations 
of famous brands which the French 
semi to what they call " eccentric " 
i ountries. 

Onh thirty-six per cent, of the total 
area of Italy is yet under cultivation ; 
yet Italy manages to produce in a pros- 
perous year six hundred million gallons of 
wine, more olives than any other country 
in Europe, and one hundred and forty 
million bushels of wheat; to send Greal 
Britain oil and hemp and fruit, sulphur, 
chemical products, wine. tlax. and iron 

ore, and to take in return vast quantities 
of cotton, iron, coal, and woollens; to 
employ more than one hundred and 
twenty thousand women and two-thirds as 
many children in her silk factories ; and 
from her rich pasturages t<> export scores 
of thousands of cattle, sheep, and swine. 
In spite of the chronic evils of almost 
universal ignorance among the peasa.nl 
classes, and high taxation, the country 
has seen its credit rise slowly and steadily 
until iis paper money is to-day as good 
as gold. In each of the great general 
divisions of the country. Piedmont, 
Liguria, Lombardy, Venice, Emilia, Tus- 
cany. Marcia, Umbria, and Rome, 
Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia, order is 
now uniformly enforced, brigandage al- 
most entirely done away with, a military 
service sternly insisted upon, and one 
kind of money is current through all 
these States, which were once so proud 
of their own petty institutions, coinage, 
and traditions. 

As to the reform of ignorance, Italy 
is doing its best. Elementary instruction 
is obligatory and gratuitous by law ; but 
the resources of the count ry are not suffi- 
cient to maintain schools in all the 
country districts, nor can they stand the 
strain for many years to come. It is 



estimated that nearly every member of 
the rural population of the kingdom has 
to find 19 or 20 lire, something like $4, 
per year to support the government 
revenue. 

Every year from sixty to seventy-live 
thousand young men are swept away into 
the standing army, to serve for three 
years in the infantry and four years in the 
cavalry : and a second draft of sixt}' 
thousand is taken from the farms and 
workshops to serve six months under 
the Mag, both afterwards passing into the 
reserve and the mobile militia. Every 
valid Italian man remains in the Italian 
army, in the active or in the reserve, 
until lie is thirtv-nine years old. Italy, 
from her twelve military •• regions," as 
she calls them, can now muster some- 
thing like a million of soldiers, of which 
half a million are in the infantry, twenty- 
two regiments in the cavalry, and nearly 
one hundred and fifty thousand men in 
the artillery service. The mobile and 
the territorial militia is estimated at nine 
hundred and thirty thousand strong, 
which, added to the active, would give 
nearly two millions: hut the putting On 
fool for immediate service of half this 

number would he a gigantic effort for the 
country. 

Italy is justly proud of her new navy, 
which is a kind of mystification for the 
rest of Europe. The English, the French, 
ami the Germans all fail to understand 
why the new kingdom must have nine- 
teen huge iron-clads, some of them, like 
the --I )uilio" ami the "Dandolo," carrying 
four one-hundred-ton, muzzle-loading 
Armstrong i^nns, and wearing armor 
nearly two feet thick at the water-line, 
and eighteen inches thick on the turrets, 
with their gigantic guns mounted, and 
worked by hydraulic mechanism. The 
country has spent four millions of dollars 
each for those two vast vessels, the 



F.rROPE IN STOR.V AND CALM. 



407 



"Italia" and the " Lepanto,"' each four 
hundred feet long, seventy-two feet 
broad, and with an extreme draught of 
water exceeding thirty feet. 

These are the largest warships ever 
yet built; and their engines are twice 
as powerful as the engines of any other 
armored ship ever constructed. The 
rdle which such formidable monsters 
will play in some future encounter 
in the Adriatic or the Mediterranean 
cannot be prophesied. At present one 
can only suppose that Italy is building 
these prodigious ships as floating for- 
tresses, evidences of her new strength 
and greatness, and her determination to 
defend herself, if necessary. The "Italia" 
and the "Lepanto" have, like the ships 
before mentioned, each four one-hundred- 
ton breech-loading guns, carried in a bar- 
bet, protected by nineteen inches of steel- 
faced armor ; and, in addition to these, 
eighteen four-ton six-inch breech-load- 
ingguus mounted on the broadsides. The 
old arsenal of Venice, from which weut 
out the galleys of " Daudolo," the beaked 
vessels whose crews made Venice the 
mistress of the seas, has recovered its 
activity, and the Venetians toil night, and 
day on the engines for the defense of the 
great country in which their diverse in- 
dividualities have so lately been merged 

Thus, after the completion of her nu- 
merous projects for improving, building 
and rebuilding, fortifying, defending, 
and expanding, Italy has been so busy 
at home that she has played but small 
part in the international movements since 
the creation of her unit}'. Within her 
own boundaries she had had plenty to 
occupy her attention. 

With the entry into Rome, in July of 
1871, of Victor Emmanuel, and the es- 
tablishment of the capital of the new 
kingdom in the Eternal City, began a 
formidable duel between Church and 



State, which was continued without in- 
termission until the death of the great 
representatives of each power. Pius IX.. 
whom the Catholic world was pleased 
to consider as the prisoner of the ex- 
communicated King of Italy, and Victor 
Emmanuel finished their lives at the 
beginning of 1878; the King, who had 
set his hand to the decree regulating the 
funeral ceremonies of the Pontiff, being 
destined to pass away first. From 1870 
to 1878 the P>ishop of Pome, the Vicar 
of Jesus Christ, Successor of St. Peter, 
Prince of the Apostles, Supreme Pontiff 
of the Universal Church, had acted as the 
high-priest of European conservatism. 
and had set his face sternly against all 
the ardent and generous attempts of the 
House of Savoy to reconcile him to the 
upspringing of the new nationality and 
the emancipation from the dogmas of the 
church. 

Pius IX. was one of the most remark- 
able men who ever occupied the papal 
throne, and he sat longer upon that 
throne than any of his predecessors. 
He had the face of a saint, and the stern- 
ness and vigor of a soldier. He had, 
indeed, been a, soldier in his youth, but 
a curious nervous infirmity rendered it 
unlikely that he could succeed in a mili- 
tary career. So he decided to take holy 
orders. He was the son of a certain 
Count Jerome Mastai-Ferretti, a de- 
scendant of an old family, and a very 
good one. At eighteen young Mastai 
was a Liberal, an enthusiast, and a Free- 
mason, which was thought a dreadful 
thing in Catholic Europe in those days. 
After the youth had determined upon en- 
tering the priesthood he studied theology 
carefully at Rome, and was ordaiued a 
priest in 1819. In 1840 he had already 
reached the cardinalate, and six years 
later, when Gregory XVI. died, an old 
friend and fellow-pupil called the atteu- 



408 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

tion of the College of Cardinals to Mas- Italy, lie began the policy "f reaction, 

tai's merits, ami he was made Pope in II is ministry was unpopular; Ins chief 

[846. lie took the name of Pins IX., minister was assassinated; the people 

in memory of Pius VII., who was his were furious; and the Pope had to fly 

relative. across the frontier to Neapolitan terrj- 

For a. long time, and especially during tory, where he installed the court and 

the stormy days of 1848, the new Pope's called the diplomatic corps around him. 

position was hut vaguely defined. At It was more than a year and a half before 

one time he was acclaimed and we] ned he was replaced upon the throne of Peter, 

by the Democrats of Italy as likely to and, surrounded by the French baj-onets, 
he the leader of their cause and to bring without which his career would have been 
liberty back into the land from which it. closed a gem ration before, he began the 
had so long been an exile. Put those enunciation of that formidable series of 
who had been momentarily deceived by doctrines which has resulted in a most 
his professions of reform were griev- complete change in the attitude of the 
ously disappointed when they found that Catholic Church to modern institutions, 
he cared little for practical liberty, and From the day of Garibaldi's successful 
that, although he was willing to be Pope, expedition to Sicily down to the day of 
he could not, as he quaintly said, "get his death Pius IX. maintained the atti- 
himself damned to please the Liberals." tude of one persecuted, bowing to decrees 
Yd he had apparently gone so far with which he could not interfere, but 
towards Liberalism at one time that which he refused to admit as other than 
there was a conspiracy among the mem- transitory and impious. He was quick 
hers of the Pontifical government to to see that in the march of events in half- 
bring him back to a correct attitude by a-dozen European countries there were 
the terrorizing measures which leal so incessant menaces to the temporal power 
often, it was said, been practised against of the Church ; and, while he opposed in 
refractory Popes. graceful and dignified language the non 
In answer to the appeal of Milan and possumus of the papacy, he now and 
Venice the Romans begged the Pope to then, in his more familiar conversations, 
take part in the movement for indepen- inveighed with all the vigor of a politician 
deuce, and to send an army corps against against the enemies of the Church. 
Austria. Pius IX. hesitated, but at last When he heard that the Italian Parlia- 
he sent seventeen thousand men to take ment had proclaimed Victor Emmanuel 
part in the campaign, which pleased the King of Italy, in 1861, and had declared 
Austrians so little that they hanged a that Pome was the capital of the new 
Roman soldier whom they had taken kingdom, although the court still re- 
prisoner, and inscribed upon his gallows: mnined in Turin, Pius IX. declared that 
" Thus do we treat tin' soldiers of Pius he could not, without gravely wounding 
IX." his conscience, make any alliance with 
In 1848 the l'ope was a bolder politi- modern civilization. Shortly after that 
cian than any great secular sovereign in he. in one of his allocutions, condemned 
Europe. When he saw the Revolution that same modern civilization, which 
fairly in progress, and observed that the "does not even prevent heretics from 
sweeping changes which were made ia taking public office, and which opens 
France were likely to be insisted on in Catholic schools to their children." In 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



400 




THE LAST BENEDICTION OF POPE PIUS IX. 



410 



EUROPE IX STORM A\/> CALM. 



1864, In' published a syllabus, in which 
tin' Church fulminated against the whole 
Democratic theory, and opposed cate- 
gorically and with the most tremendous 
energy every doctrine of the French Rev- 
olution and uf the Little revolutions 
which had grown out of it, and almost 
every achievement of modern science 
which had led to Liberalism in thought 
and action. 

In 18C7 he published an encyclical let- 
ter against the Italian government, and 
condemned all the laws voted by the 
national parliament for secularizing the 
estates of the Chinch. He declared 
against the increased facilities for the 
higher instruction of women in France, 
against the liberal laws which Austria 
was beginning to make in harmony with 
modern ideas. — laws recognizing the lib- 
erty of conscience and of the press, mixed 
marriages, primary instruction, etc., 
These laws, he said, were abominable, 
contrary to doctrine, to the rights and to 
tin constitution of the Church. In 1868 
he sent the famous golden rose, blessed 
by his own hand, to Queen Isabella of 
Spain, so soon destined to fly before her 
enraged people. When the Spanish Re- 
public came, he forbade the Spanish 
bishops to take seats in the Cortes or 
to take the oath of fidelity to the con- 
stitution of their country. In 1868 he 
published a bull, convoking the Ecumeni- 
cal Councilat Koine to meet in December 
of the following year. In this council 
he for the second time undertook the 
profound modification of the creed of 
the Catholic Chinch. In 1854 he had 
formally defined the dogma of the Im- 
maculate Conception ; and now he brought 
together the great dignitaries of the 
whole Catholic world, that they might 
join with him in asserting the infallibility 
of the Vicar of Christ upon earth. The 
dogma was thus expressed: " We teach 



and define that it is a dogma divinely 
revealed that the Roman Pontiff, when 
he speaks ex catliedra, defining a doc- 
trine regarding faith or morals to be 
held by the Universal Church, is, by the 
Divine assistance promised to him in 
Messed Titer, | mssessec 1 of that infalli- 
bility with which the Divine Redeemer 
willed that his Church should be endowed 
in defining doctrine regarding faith or 
morals; and that therefore such defini- 
tions of the Roman Pontiff are of them- 
selves, and not through the consent of 
the Church, infallible." The imposing mi- 
nority which arose against this decision — 
minority composed of ( rerman and French 
ecclesiastics alike — had no effect upon 
Pius IX. As the wave of Democracy rose 
he stood more erect and sterner than ever 
upon the rock of Peter. His discourses 
were full of allusions to the wicked war 
made against the Church, to the perver- 
sion of law, to corrupt artifices for break- 
ing the boundsof salutary authority. He 
enjoyed to the full his triumph ,in the 
Vatican Council. He saw himself sol- 
emnly proclaimed as infallible, all his 
opponents except two at the final vote, 
which was in public session, abstaining, 
rather than to place themselves on record 
as opposed to the Successor of Peter. 

Thus at the very moment of the ele- 
vation of the Pope, who had ruled in 
Pome for a generation, to the highest 
honor possible to attain on earth, he saw 
his spiritual capital invaded by the 
Italian King, and the old papal resi- 
dence of the Quirinal occupied by the 
royal representative of a newly united 
people. 

When Victor Emmanuel came to the 
Quirinal he was the most popular figure 
in Italy. Pius IX. even had a secret 
liking for him ; and it is said that when 
the Re galantuomo lav dying in the 
palace which he had taken from the 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



411 



Pope, and the Pope himself was con- 
fined to his bed, and knew that his last 
hour was not far off, his priestly heart 
yearned towards the excommunicated 
son of the Church. lie called to him a 
run'- of the apostolic palace, and said, 
" Monsignore, take a carriage and go 
directly to the Quirinal ; there present 
yourself in my name, and beg to speak to 
the King. I give you full power to re- 
lieve him from all the condemnations." 

The prelate was so astonished that 
the Pope had to repeat his order before 
he would go to execute it. But he had 
no sooner arrived at the Quirinal than he 
was sent back. The ministers, the 
aides-de-camp, the physicians, nil pre- 
vented him from arriving at the King's 
bedside. It is said that the old Pope 
turned uneasily on his couch, and said, 
" Ah, the unhappy creatures ! they wish 
to arrest the pardon of God ; and this 
poor culpable King is no more free in 
his death-bed than he was on the throne. 
If ever. I regretted not being able to get 
about the streets of my city of Pome it 
is now. I wish I had the force to get 
up. I would go to the Quirinal myself, 
and I would see whether I should not be 
let in ! " 

But this movement of charity, as the 
Catholic world thought it, indicated no 
weakening of papal sentiment towards 
the House of Savoy. Pius IX. liked to 
depict Victor Emmanuel II. as a good 
Catholic, who was compelled by a host 
of wicked people surrounding him to do 
disagreeable things to the Church. He 
was fond of speaking of the sovereign 
as a gay and sensual gentleman, who 
was in his secret heart a bit of a bigot, 
and who invoked at least three times a 
day St. Andrew of Aveliue. It was 
said that the monarch signed the decrees 
expelling the Jesuits, suppressing the 
religious orders, confiscating the eccle- 



siastical estates, obliging the priesthood 
to military service ; but immediately 
wrote to the Pope letters of supplica- 
tion, saying that he was constrained, and 
promised to do all he could to attenuate 
the effects of these measures. Pius IX. 







VICTOR EMMANUEL AND I'KINCE HUMBERT 
AT THE QUIRINAL 

sometimes called the King the •■ great 
breast-beater," because he liked to 
picture him in the attitude of the peni- 
tent who strikes upon his bosom, and 
says " Mea culpa! mea culpa!" when 
the evil is done. 

It was impossible for a man like 
Pius IX. to divest himself of the influ- 
ence of his surroundings, and so he 



412 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

coiil" 1 lmt believe that the wise and claiming that their country had reached 

generous King, whose gi'eat heart was the stature of :i First-class power, 
filled with such a burning flame of love Under Victor Emmanuel's reign the 

for his country, could raise himself by a noble and self-sacrificing Mazzini died, 

majestic effort, and one which will render at Pisa, and his funeral, at Genoa, was 

his name immortal, above the tradition attended by more than eighty thousand 

and the petty prejudices in which he had people. The country was not unmindful 

been raised, and affront the mighty in its happy days of those who had 

anger of Rome, with the serene con- worked so industriously in varying paths 

sciousness of one who felt that he was and by widely diverse methods for its 

doing a duty which, although it might unification, and beautiful monuments 

be disagreeable for a time, was necessary were erected to the memory of Cavour 

to the safety of the State. and to Mazzini in Turin and Koine. 

Victor Emmanuel enjoyed the last The history of Italy, from the estab- 

years of his life to the full. He looked lishment of the national capital at Home 

back upon his friendship with Cavour until Victor Emmanuel's death, was full 

with pride and tender affection. Per- of instances of devotion to the memory 

haps he regretted now and then the of patriots. 

necessities of his political situation. Victor Emmanuel died in .January of 

which had made him the opponent of 1878, after a brief illness, and a great 

so great and so energetic a patriot as sadness fell upon the peninsula. There 

Garibaldi; but, with one son called to were few 7 Liberal Italians who would 

the throne of Spain, and his own pailia- have ventured to say that he had 

ment installed in the Eternal City, which not been a good King. "He was," 

had so long been the Mecca of his says a French writer, " in appearance 

hopes; with his family about him in the like an ancient Cimbrian chief, who 

Quirinal, — he had every desire to be possessed what lie had by right of eon- 

courteous and conciliatory in his rela- quest. lie was patient and resolute, 

tions with the Holy Sec. a clever and dexterous politician, and 

In his capacity of sovereign of a new daily gave proof of rare sagacity. With 

and powerful nation he felt it his duty his vast shoulders, his Herculean limbs, 

to make visits abroad ; and his journeys his face, witli its irregular and fero- 

to Vienna and Berlin in 1873 doubtless cious lineaments, he was striking and 

had much to do with the formation, some impressive in uniform, with his helmet 

years later, of the alliance between on his huge head. With his lofty and 

North Germany and Austria, and did majestic carriage, his sparkling eves. 

something to weaken the hostility which and especially in battle, he was quite 

had so long existed between invaded fine." Even his Catholic enemies 

Italy and invading Austria. In 1875 speak enthusiastically of his soldierly 

the Emperor of Austria went even to qualities. A Catholic writer has said 

Venice, which had been so recently taken of him that " he knew little of literature, 

out of his grasp, and in the same year and was hardly interested in art, finding 

the old Emperor ol Germany went to 'those things,' as he called Ih an. in- 

iMilan. The beautiful northern city was compatible with the tradi cf arms oi 

resplendent for a week, and the Italian the exercise of the chase. But he had 

public blustered a little in those days, the temperament of his race, the foxes 



EUROPE LV STORM AND CALM. 



413 



of Savoy. lie excelled in bringing of a hero: 'I am covered with 
out the resources of his good sense, wounds,' when he had only been 
when he was among his ministers, touched upon the thigh. . . . He 
whom he treated as he pleased, like was no mediocre monarch, lie knew 
most of the constitutional sovereigns how to make his homely visage gra- 
who have hail councils thrust upon cious, amiable, and almost handsome. 
them. On the field of battle he main- His voice was now rude, uow tender. 
tained a noble attitude, in spite of his Huge and portly, he knew how to take 
Hun-like heaviness. He was rather too on soldierly or royal manners, accord- 
fond of boasting of his military ex- ing to the person whom he was desir- 
ploits. He would say, with the accent ous of impressing." 



Ill EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR. 

The Pope at the Vatican. — The Daily Life of Leo XIII. — lis Picturesque, Spiritual, and Political Aspects 
The Continuance of the War Between the Vatican and the Quirinal. -The Aims ami Ambitions 
.if I he Catholic Tarty in Italy. — Evolution or Revolution. — Prophecies of tin- ' 'atholics. — " Unre- 
deemed Italy." 

TIIF Italian nation insisted that States. Not long ago it was determined 

Victor Emmanuel's mortal remains to build a royal railway train; and when 

should lie laid in the Pantheon, that the King saw tin' jealousy awakened in 

splendid building which stands amoug the different sections of tin 1 peninsula 

the ruins of old Koine as the particular as to the establishment which should 

jewel of ancient architecture ; ami there have the privilege of constructing the 

the monarch isentombed under the same train, he arranged it so that some portion 

mighty roof that shelters the gentle of the equipage should he built in each 

Raphael. To the throne of Italy came part of Italy where railway works were 

Prince Umberto, who. at first much located. 

criticised, and treated perhaps with The Kino' litis a civil list of about 
mild suspicion by certain factions of his 15,000,000 lire, a modest fortune for a 
people, has known how to win the af- European sovereign; and to this is 
fections of the nation, and tit times added 100,000 fraucs or lire, for the ex- 
to merit their enthusiastic applause, penses of representation. This is less 
There is metal and grit in these sons of than is allowed to the President of the 
Victor Emmanuel : in the stately, pale- French Republic. The family gave up 
faced Prince Amadeo, who was brave all its private domains to the couutry in 
enough to put away from him the crown IMS. When the King or members of 
of Spain when he saw that he could not his family travel from place to place 
with self-respect retain it; and in this in Italy, till the expenses of journey 
equally stately and equally pale-faced and residence are paid by the nation. 
King Umberto, who coolly sent his (ami- King Umberto specially likes the <,Juir- 
pliments to the Pope on the day that he inal, not because his residence there is a 
reached the throne, and who stood up sign of the victory over Rome, hut be- 
in his father's tracks with as much ease cause he passed many happy years then' 
and coolness as if he had practised the as a prima' before he took respousibtli- 
attitude for years. ties upon his shoulders. 

King Umberto and Queen Margherita This Quirinal Palace was built for the 

have already on their record a host of popes, and litis been a favorite residence; 

courageous, generous, and kindly deeds, of the tenants of Peter's chair since 

Their chief aim is to do till in their the time of Gregory XIII. It has a 

power to consolidate the national unity ; huge court-yard surrounded with a por- 

and even in little things the new king is tico, a magnificent royal hall, the 

careful of the opinion of his various "Pauline Chapel," in which the cardi- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



415 



nals used to assemble in conclave, and 
where they were wont to vote for the elec- 
tion of the Popes. In this palace died Pius 
VII. ; and here he was made a prisoner 
by order of Napoleon I., when that 
energetic conqueror had had the papal 
doors smashed open by blows from 
axes. 

Pius IX. escaped from this palace in 
disguise in 184'J. Here was also the 
private chapel of the Pope, in which is 
one of the finest works of Guido. The 
Pauline chapel was deconsecrated by the 
Pope ou the evening of the entry of the 
Italian army into Rome, and on the 
same night the priceless pictures aud 
tapestries were carried away to the 
Vatican. 

There is a new Pope at the Vatican, 
but there is no new policy there. The 
able and aggressive ecclesiastic who 
succeeded to Pius IX. accepted the 
legacy of the dead prelate; and Papal 
Rome is as unbending in its attitude as 
it was under Victor Emmanuel. Leo 
XIII., as he chose to call himself, because 
he had a great veneration for Leo XII., 
would in any station of life have been a 
remarkable man. His originality and 
his firmness of will are unbounded. 
When be was Archbishop of Perugia 
he came into collision with Victor 
Emmanuel, who was then beginning to 
extend the Liberal influence of the Savoy 
Monarchy into Italy. A royal decree dis- 
persed the members of certain religious 
orders in the diocese, whereupon the 
archbishop wrote a letter to the King, 
protesting in the most vigorous language 
against the repeated insults to the holy 
religion, and alluding to the miserable 
condition to which the new policy was 
reducing the monkish fraternity. When 
Victor Emmanuel arrived at Perugia, in 
1869, the Archbishop was invited, with 
the civil and military authorities, to 



present his homage to the King ; but lie 
declined. 

The new Pope had to wait many years 
for a Cardinal's hat, which he had well 
won by his services to the Church in 
Belgium, and other northern countries, 
for Cardinal Antonelli, who had such 
powerful influence over Pius IX., was 
hostile to this grave, studious, ascetic 
Archbishop Pecci. Gregory XVI., the 
predecessor of Pius IX., had been ready 
to give him the cardinalate in 1846 ; but 
when Pius IX. came in, he made the Arch- 
bishop, who was meantime installed in 
Perugia, wait many years. 

After Autonelli's death Cardinal Pecci 
rapidly came into prominence ; and in 
the autumn of 1877, when the rumor of 
the death of Pius IX. was spread abroad 
in Rome every morning, Pecci's name 
was constantly mentioned as a probable 
successor. He had been made a kind of 
vice-pope while the holy see was vacant 
during the illness of Pius IX., and every 
morning his enemies and friends expected 
to see him come down from his apart- 
ments to strike his mallet upon the fore- 
head of the dead Pontiff, and address to 
him the consecrated formula: "Dost 
thou not sleep?" 

When on the !>th of February, 187S, 
Pius IX. dii'd, there was little endeavor 
made to intrigue against the man who 
seemed so clearly destined for the' succes- 
sion to the chair. The Cardinal was very 
modest, and seemed half inclined to re- 
fuse the great dignity; lint when, alter 
the numerous votes in the College of 
Cardinals, after all the votes of polite- 
ness, as they are called, according to the 
Italian custom, had been made, around 
Cardinal Pecci's name the necessary 
votes for the election were grouped; so 
the additional questions were asked him, 
and he replied: "I think myself un- 
worthy of the supreme magistracy, but 



411) EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

as the Holy College seems t<> be agreed, from one end to the other." The friend 
I must submit to the will of Uod. In was amused at this, and put him to the 
remembrance of Leo XII., for whom 1 lest; whereupou the Pope recited pas- 
have always professed s great veuera- sage after passage in a deep, melodious 
lion, I wish to be called Leo XIII." voice, evidently with great delight. In 
Then the first deacon, appearing in the sunn' of his encyclical letters there is 
exterior loge of the < liurch of St. Peter, the stamp of Dante's style When he 
uttered the solemn words, which an- was archbishop of Perugia he wrote 
nouueed to the Romans the election of a much poetry, now in Latin, now in 
new Pop; 1 : — Italian. 

■• .[linn ni in vobis gaudium magnum. If the Pope is to be considered as 

/'iijimii habemus Eminentiss. uc-llev- prisoner t<> the wicked Italian govern- 

erindis. Domin. Cardin. Pecci elect ua incut it must be allowed that he has a 

est in Sn in hi a in Pontijicem, et elegit sibi splendid prison. The great Vatican 

iimiirii Leo XIII." cluster of palaces and museums has 

Leo XIII. is tall, and as lean as a monk more than thirteen thousand rooms, 
of the old Thebaic!. His white robe twenty vast courts, eight state stairways, 
floats loosely about hi.s almost fleshless and an infinite number of halls, galleries, 
limbs. It. is sometimes said of him that chapels, corridors, libraries, and muse- 
he is the image of Voltaire; but, while urns. The Sistiue Chapel and the Vatican 
the expression of his face is not unlike Library, the Loggie of Raphael, and the 
that of the eieat philosopher ami sceptic, picture and sculpture gallery form cer- 
it has less of malice and of sarcastic tainly a noble residence for a scholar and 
vigor, more of stern determination, a priest. 

tempered by the indefinable sweetness The present Pope leads a laborious 

which seems inseparable from the priestly life, like all his predecessors. lie rises 

expression, and is doubtless bom of at six o'clock, and after a hasty toilet 

purity of life and temperate manners, engages in devotions. At half-past 

Leo XIII. in private life is simple, affec- seven he cues to his particular chapel, 

donate, amiable, witty ; his face is pah', where he celebrates mass. On Sunday a 

but his eves are deep, clear, and, small congregation is admitted, and he 

despite his advanced age, sparkling, lie distributes the Eucharist, lie next at- 

is not an orator, like Pius IX.. but he is tends a second mass, after which he re- 

a clever writer; in the presence of a turns to his private apartments, where 

crowd of listeners he would be troubled, he breakfasts alone, very quickly and 

Pius IX. was a real orator, taking his modestly. 

inspiration from the throne. Whether The part of the Vatican which lias 

he writes in Latin or in Italian, the new been specially devoted to papal residence 

Pope is thoroughly master of his pen. since the sixteenth century overlooks St. 

He i-. a statesman who lias been well Peter's square. Iii it there is a monu- 

nouriahed iu controversial law, and "ho mental staircase, having two hundred 

likes polemics. He is fond of Dante, and ninety-nine steps in white marble, 

and delighted at anv new discovery of which serves the halls in the three stories, 

an ancient and rare edition of the great Here is the famous " Swiss Guard," 

Florentine. He said one day to a friend : which still wears the motley garb adopted 

"1 can recite the ' Divina Commedia' by it in the middle ages. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



417 



On the first floor is the "Hall of the 
Consistory," where the Pope consults 
the cardinals on the affairs of the church. 
At the end of this hall is the pontifical 
throne. Through a series of antecham- 
bers one reaches the private offices of 
the Pope ; and here is the hall of the 
noble guard, composed of eighty mem- 
bers of the nobility, com- 
manded by a Roman prince. 
Their uniform is that of the 
garde du corps of Louis 
XVIII. Formerly this guard 
accompanied the Pope in all 
ceremonies; but now that he 
goes out but little, the insti- 
tution is falling into decay. 
The " throne hall " is used for 

all official receptions. Bey I 

are the private apartments, 
the bedrooms the dining- 
rooms, and the library of the 
great head of the Church. 

There is little harmony, and 
not much exterior splendor, in 
this group of palaces'and mu- 
seums, famous throughout 
the civilized world : but so 
many traditions cluster about 
the Vatican, so many histor- 
ical souvenirs are evoked by 
it. that not even the most 
prosaic traveller sees it with- 
out a thrill. In the old 
palace attached to the Basilica 
of St. Peter, which is said to have dated 
from the time of Constantine, Charle- 
magne resided when he came to Rome to 
lie crowned by Leo III., and Pope Inno- 
cent III. entertained one of the kings 
of Aragon in the palace which succeeded 
to this .primitive one. For more than a 
thousand years the Popes lived in the 
Lateral) Palace, to which good Catholics 
suspect the present Italian government 
of a wish to transfer them again. 



After the return of the Popes from 
their temporary home at Avignon, in 
the closing years of the fourteenth cen- 
tury, they adopted the Vatican as their 
permanent residence. Gregory XL 

liked the pontifical palace because of the 

neighborhood of the Castle of St. 
Angelo, which he thought afforded the 




ATTENDANTS AND OFFI- 
CIALS AT THE VATI- 
CAN. 



papal court greater se- 
curity than it enjoyed 
elsewhere. Each Pope 
seems to have done all 
that the resources of his 
treasury allowed to beautify ami improve 
this head-quarters of the hierarchy of the 
Christian world. Sixtus the IV. built 
the Sistine Chapel; Innocent VIII. the 
Belvedere ; the great Julius II. the cel- 
ebrated " Loggie," the terraces, and laid 
the foundations of the Vatican museum. 
It was he who placed in this museum the 
Laocoon, the Apollo, and the Cleopatra. 
Under Raphael's direction Leo X. fin- 
ished the Loggie. Sixtus V. spoiled the 



41* 



Efiiori-: i \ s rni; u i \/> c 1/ >/. 



unity of Bramante's plan by building the stale stnircase was finished, and Hie re- 
Vatican Librai'3' across the architect's ception-rooms were made superb with 
rectangle. It was the same Pope who frescoes. 

licjan the imposing palace on the cast Tims, for four centuries, the Popes 
side of the court of the Loggie, which is have delighted to leave behind them, as 
now the ordinary residence of the Popes, their especial monuments, the practical 
Urban V 1 1 1 . ordered the construction of execution of their ideas as to the enrich- 
t.he Seala Rcgia ; (Teinenl XIV. and Pius menl of the sacred palace. It is said 
VI. built the fine range of rooms over the that Leo XIII. lias conceived the idea 

of devoting all his spare 
leisure ti > the creation of 
a magnificent monument 

c lnemorative of the 

extraordinary pontificate 

;„J of Pius IX. The plan 

has long been in process 

of elaboration, and the 




, ; ,rt most distinguished sculp. 
I [V. , .j'y loi-s in the kingdom have 

'ill 
111 



been consulted about it. 
Each of the great acts 
of the reign of Pius IX. 
arc, it is Said, lo be illus- 
trated by allegorical mar- 
ble groups. 

The division of the 
Pope's laborious day will 

be full Of interest to :dl. 
After his meagre first 
breakfast. — which heal- 
most invariably takes 
ali me, although now and 
then, as a special favor, 
which makes infinite 
museum named after them; Pius VII. gossip in Rome, he has one or two 
addeil the wing which covers part of the friends near him while he partakes of 
celebrated terrace; Leo X. founded a his simple repast, — he goes to wank 
picture-gallery, which Gregory XVI. as systematically as the most ener- 
finished ; and this latter pontiff in- getic man of business. At half-past 
augurated the Etruscan Museum. Pius nine he receives the Cardinal Sec- 
IX. was never weary of contributing to retary of State, then the Cardinals 
the splendor of the Vatican. Under his who are prefects of congregations, the 
reign the Loggie were enclosed in glass. Secretary of Latin Letters, the See- 
thus saving Raphael's frescoes from the retary of the Briefs, and the Princes ; 
ravages of weather: the picture-gal- finally such persons as arc admitted 
leries were greatly improved, tic -rand to the honor of a special interview-. 



POPE LEO Mil. IX HIS PRIVATE CABINET. 



KHinPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



■Hi) 



On Mondays, and sometimes on Thurs- 
days, he gives public receptions, a 
ceremonial which is familiar to thou- 
sands of American and English travel- 
lers. Leo XIII. is not so fond of 
these receptions as was Pius IX., al- 
though the latter prelate sometimes give you hi 
found his patience almosl exhausted " Very w< 



must withdraw. Upon this she began 
with greater volubility lhan ever. 
" Holy Father." 

'• What will you have more, my 
daughter? " 

•• My husband has begged me to 

photograph." 

; I accept it. Thank him 



p 



by the infinite number of questions as on my part." 
well as the great number of compli- " But, Holy Father " — 
ments hurled upon him by 
the enthusiastic visitors. 
Anything that causes the 
present Pope a loss of 
time fatigues and annoys 
him. lie is not fond 
of making addresses to 
troops of pilgrims or sym- 
pathetic Frenchmen, or 
penitent Austrians, who 
come and bow at his 
feet. Pius IX. was more 
adroit in his manner of 
treating the multitude 
than the new Pope can 
ever hope to be. The 
former had the more 
tact ; the latter has the 
greater majesty. 

A good story is told of 
Pius IX., showing how even the successor "• What next? " 

of Peter may sometimes find his dignity - I would like to take back to my 
give way under the pressure of a rude curi- husband your Iloliness's photograph." 
osity or an indiscreet admiration. One " That is quite right. I will give 
day when the Pope was quite weary with you one;" which he proceeded to do. 
a long public reception, a lady who ••And now, Holy Father, if you 
had a special letter of introduction would kindly write your autograph on 
knelt before the Pope, begging for his the back of the photograph." 

he bestowed as " Very well," said the Pope ;" I will 




THE POPE RECEIVES 
VISITOR. 



which 



benediction, 
usual. 

The lady entered into a long con- 
fession of her many troubles. The 
Pope, who was ready to drop with fa- 
tigue, tried to console her, and the 
more he consoled the more she talked, 
until he was compelled to say that he 



do that also." 

Then he was about to throw down 
the pen with which he had hastily writ- 
ten his priestly signature, when the 
lady, laying hold of his skirts, said, 
" Holy Father, there is one thing 
more." 



42(1 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



"Indeed!" s;ii<l the Pope, with a 
shiver of indignation, "what can it 
be?" 

" I must ask you for the pen with 
which you have written the autograph." 

■• Very well, take the pen, the ink- 
stand, and, for Heaven's sake, go at 
mice, my good woman," cried the Pope, 
releasing his skirls and making his way 
t<> his private aparl incuts. 

Leo XIII. sometimes invites visitors 

who please him into his private r is, 

— a proceeding which doubtless would 
have scandalized tin: other Popes. If 
a delegation of workmen comes to lay 
an address at his feet he shows them 
all about, takes them even into his 
bedroom, chatting on secular and re- 
ligious matters with the greatest free- 
dom, and frequently makes many con- 
verts and friends for life among 
the lower classes ill this way. lie 
speaks French with a strong Italian 
accent, but with skill and vigor of ex- 
pression. 

At half-past two the Pope dines 
alone and frugally; then he takes a 
little 1 nap, never more than a quarter 
of an hour in length ; his doctors call 
this his "Armistice," and insist upon 
this daily leisure. As soon as he goes 
out of his private room he recites the 
divine office, reads for a short time in 
a religious book, and then goes hack 
to his duties. At five o'clock he re- 
ceives the bishops, who always come 
to bring him the news, and to tell him 
of troubles which crop up in their 
dioceses; and the secretaries of the 
various congregations have an endless 

successi >f reports to make. At this 

hour of the day the Pope represents 

a more wide-spread constituency than 

any other ruler in the world There 
are Catholics everywhere, and the 
agents of the Church are daily sending 



to the head-quarters at Home reports 
of manners and customs, of agriculture, 
industry, commerce, arts, science, let- 
ters, politics, and religions. 

A bright writer on clerical affairs calls 
the Vatican the most elevated of observ- 
atories, whence the Pope can note with 
precision the affairs of Honolulu as well 
as those of Paris or of St. Petersburg. 
Phe Pope listens with attention and 
even with curiosity to every letter and 
written or oral report. In him the am- 
bition of the Church does not sleep. He 
is as proud of a spiritual victory at- 
tained in Dakota as of one which has 
been won in Germany. He fully appre- 
ciates the Catholic genius for evangeli- 
zation, and believes that the strength of 
his Church is in the marvellous discipline 
and organization which it is his duty to 
supervise. The popular Protestant idea 
of a Pope is a mild and genial elderly 
gentleman, refined in intellect, and of 
exalted spirituality, who passes his time 
in grand ceremonials, amid clouds of 
incense and the genuflection of elab- 
orately costumed prelates, and whose 
leisure is plentiful enough to enable him 
to enjoy the splendors of ancient and 
modern Home, by which he is sur- 
rounded. But the real Pope is, as 
we have seen, an active, responsible, 
energetic head, daily awakening to new 
duties, new crises, new situations, which 
demand immediate thought. lie has to 
discuss affairs in Europe, Africa. Ocean- 
ica. Asia, and America; and daily, 
alter his inferiors come in with their 
reports, ami long after they are gone, 
he leans over his desk, which is 
heaped with documents and letters and 
writes, reads, annotates, and muses 
Until half-past ten, when he is summoned 
to a simple supper. Now ami then the 
supper is cut short by an excess of Work, 
for the Pope goes to lied with military 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



421 



precision at eleven. Sometimes his 
chamberlain has found him, worn out 
with thought and toil, with his head 
buried in his hands, asleep at his desk. 
It requires a robust physique and great 
strength of character to support the con- 
stant and somewhat monotonous round 
of daily duties to which a Pope gives his 
life when lie takes the reins of authority 
into his own hands. 

Since the invasion of Rome, as the 
Catholics call it, the Pope is not sup- 
posed to leave the Vatican. Pius IX. 
adhered sternly to his decision not to 
appear in any of the ceremonials once 
so familiar to the populace in the streets 
of Rome ; and the present Pope is his 
faithful follower in this respect. Exer- 
cise, however, he must have, and so he 
gets it, now by pacing one of the great 
corridors of the palace ; now he is taken 
down to the gardens in a sedan chair, 
through the beautiful loggie of Raphael, 

past the frescoes of the great " School 

of Athens " and " The Dispute ; " or uow 
he drives a little in the shady alleys of the 
garden or on the flanks of the neighbor- 
ing hill. When he goes out he is rarely 
accompanied by any persons save those 
on duty that day, and at a little dis- 
tance a small platoon of the guard, 
composed of the Roman nobility, which 
does voluntary service as his escort. 
In these out-door promenades the Pope 
is never idle. He either recites his 
breviary, he opens and reads his de- 
spatches, which he has brought along 
with him ; or, if he has invited some 
prelate to accompany him, they talk 
business and religion. But he always, 
says one who is familiar with the inte- 
rior of the Vatican, seems anxious to 
get back to his work. 

Leo XIII. is very independent in his 
choice of functionaries and friends. As 
soon as he was made Pope he sent for 



the master of ceremonies to proceed 
with the division of the list of employees 
at the Papal Court. The master of cere- 
monies read them off one by one, ami 
the Pope was ready with a name to 
place opposite each title. He would 
hear of no objections to his choice, and 
he set aside as useless some of the old- 
fashioned offices, much to the dismay 
and discomfiture of prelates who had 
hoped to have obtained them. He has 
a horror for sinecures, and picks them 
out with infallible vision, expressing a. 
keen delight in suppressing them. He 
would never make a cardinal, as Pius 
IX. is said to have done in the case of a 
certain French prelate, because " if I 
had not made a cardinal of him he would 
have died of chagrin." The tradition of 
the Vatican is that when a new Pope 
comes out from the conclave at which 
he has been elected, he places the cardi- 
nal's cap upon the head of the person 
who served as secretary of the assem- 
bly ; lint Leo XIII. did nothing of the 
kind, much to the surprise of the Sacred 
College. It was a year before the new 
Pope announced his first promotion in 
the list of cardinals. He cannot be re- 
proached with having insisted upon the 
too Italian character of the Sacred Col- 
lege, for he has made appointments in 
many lands. 

The Roman families which claim no- 
bility are devoted to the Vatican ; and it 
is but natural that they should lie so, as 
most of them owe their origin to papal 
protection. Thus we are told that the 
Albania got their fortune through Clem- 
ent XL : the Aldobrandinis, through 
Clement VIII. ; the Barberinis, through 
Lilian VIII. ; the Borgheses, through 
Paul V. ; the Chigis, through Alexander 
VII. ; the Colonnas, through Martin V. ; 
the Odescalchis, through Innocent XL ; 
the Rospigliosis, through Clement IX. ; 



422 



EUROPE !\ STORM AND CALM. 



and so on ad infinitum. In Roman 
society the cardinals take the first place ; 
princes and dukes come next, and gen- 
erally, says a good authority, in the 
tinier of their creation, with the excep- 
tion always of the chiefs of the Colonna 
and Orsini families, who are hereditary 
princes, attendant upon the throne, and 
who take precedence of all their <•< >m- 
peers. 

In two years the Pope had changed 




iii EEN OF ITALY. 

his secretary of state twice. He in- 
tended, and still intends, to allow no 
one to take in his life the important 
plaee which Cardinal Antonelli had 
taken in that of Pius IX.. although the 
latter was generally accredited with 
deciding pretty vigorously for himself 
on great matters. Pius IX. was not 
very tolerant on any remonstrance ad- 
dressed liiiu by the College of Cardinals ; 
but the new Pope is open to conviction, 

and listens to all with the greatest 



attention. He is inflexible in his de- 
mands for discipline and hard work 
anioiie | u> followers. It is said that one 
day a Frenchman, who had just been 
accorded an interview, said to the priest 
who had accompanied him, " How very 
affable the Pope is!" '• Yes," said the 
priest, with a hitter smile, "affable to 
strangers." This priest had been kept 
up all night to study a report with which 
he was in arrears. 

The notion that the Pope is over- 
whelmed with contributions of money 
and treasure from all parts of the world, 
and that his coffers are overflowing with 

Peter's Pence, is said to be a mistaken 
one. He talks frequently of the penury 
of his resources, ami Romans who are 
in a position to judge say that he does 
not exaggerate his circumstances. He 
finds sums for liberal charities, and 
perhaps takes a little pleasure in giving 
more generously from his own lean purse 
than the King, who. as the representative 
of the nation, feels compelled to give. A 
committee of cardinals was charged by 
the Pope, after the hitter's accession to 
power, carefully to administer the Peter's 
Pence, which was the most important 
source of revenue of the Holy See; but 
nowadays there are perpetual com- 
plaints that it is not sufficient for the 
needs of the Vatican. Hundreds, and 
even thousands, of useless presents are 
made where money would be more 
acceptable. The gentlemen of the 
Roman nobility who are on service at 

the Vatican join with the Pope in some 
noble charities. One Roman prince 
gave, in the severe winter of 1879-80, 
seventy-five thousand meals to the poor 
of the capital. The Pope himself, on 
Xew Year's day of that winter, gave 

15,000 francs front his private purse to 
charity. 

Although he has reestablished very 



EUROPE IX STORM AXI> CADI. 



l 23 



carefully all the etiquette of the Papal 
Court, etiquette which had fallen some- 
what into decay since 1N70, he does not 

allow the cardinals to g it in gala 

carriages. The processions arc all kept 
carefully within the churches, and the 
files of chanting brethren, carrying huge 
candles, which follow funeral processions, 
arc almost the only relic of the copious 
and magnificent Catholic ceremonial, 
sonic phase of which was once visible 
hourly in Rome. 

The Pope finds time in the midst of 
his apostolate, in the intervals of the 
careful study of St. Thomas Aquinas, 
for whom he lias a veritable passion, and 
the spread of whose doctrines he recom- 
mends to all the bishops, to occupy 
himself with modern progress. lie 
writes copiously and freely for two or 
three Roman newspapers, which are I he 
official representatives of the Papal 
Court; and there was at one time since 
his accession a grand project for found- 
ing a huge newspaper, the size of the 
" London Times," to be the official jour- 
nal of the Vatican, and to embody in its 
many columns every day the epitome of 
the Catholic world. It was proposed 
that this novel journal should lie printed 
in a dozen languages ; but the scheme 
was given up altogether as extensive and 
expensive. 

Not long ago the Pope founded an 
academy for the study of Roman law- 
anil philosophy, ecclesiastical law, and 
comparative civil legislation. The grand 
polyglot academy session, which was 
held at the Vatican in April, 1880, will 
not soon be forgotten. It brought to- 
gether forty-nine different languages, 
all of which were well spoken by the 
representatives of the Catholic faith in 
every quarter of the world. The diplo- 
mats who arc sent to the Papal Court by 
countries which still recognize the tem- 



poral sovereignty of the Pope are said 
to lie somewhat annoyed at the facility 
with which (he august Pontiff scuds his 
views to the public journals. He often 
adopts sudden publicity as a way of 
getting out of a political situation which 
is disagreeable to him. 

The programme of the Vatican appears 
lo be susceptible of but little change in 
one respect: there will be no recon- 
ciliation with the Quiriual ; and this is 




kl\o OK ITALY. 



the reason given by the Catholic authori- 
ties: In the first place, alter his election, 
Leo XIII. took a solemn oath upon the 
Gospels, in the presence of the Sacred 
College, according to the constitution 
and the canons, that he would not abdi- 
cate the rights of the Holy See and the 
domain of St. Peter: and, furthermore, 
the present King of Italy doe-, not 
possess the authority to restore the 
Papal States. With this point of view 
established in the Catholic mind, it is 



Il'l 



EUROPE IX STORM A\H CALM. 



evident that little progress can be made. 
Leo XIII. 's plan of action is summed up 
in the words : " Neither concession nor 
provocation." The Holy See considers 
the temporal power as an inherent, part 
of the Constitution of the Church from 
the earliest dawn of Christianity. Its 
own historians say that the Popes became 
sovereigns without knowing how they 
became so ; that an invisible law raised 
up the Roman Sec 1 ; and that the chief 
of the Roman Universal Church is 
born a sovereign. They scoff at the 
■■ law of guarantees," which " established 
Hi, official relations between the new 
kingdom and the Holy See." They say 
that it is a law imposed by the con- 
queror upon the conquered, and that, 
although it accords the Pope sovereign 
lionois, and assigns him a civil list of 
several millions of francs (which neither 
the present Pope nor Pius IX. would 
accept), it is perilous and irreligious in 
its action. The retreat of Pius IX. to 
the Vatican was therefore necessitated 
by the loss of his independence, and his 
successors must follow his exile until — 
I'nlil what? The Catholic view of the 
situation in Italy is, that, in process of 
time, a radical and republican revolution 
will sweep away the House of Savoy, 
and that then the people will proceed 
to excesses which will necessitate 
intervention, a return to royalty, and 
the reestablislrment of all the Papal 

privileges This conviction is so lixed 
in the minds of many Catholics of 
Italy that they not only make no secret 
of it, but have boldly urged the Catho- 



lics to vote and work with the Republicans 
for the upsetting of this monarchy. They 
hail every revolution and disorder as a 
step forward towards the emancipation 
of Home; yet they might have seen, by 
events in France in 1871, that a social- 
istic and radical revolution may be put 
down without destroying a republic. 
They say that Italian unity has profited 
none but the middle or bourgeois class ; 
that the country is going straight from 
evolution to revolution : that the re- 
sources of the kingdom are all absorbed 
by taxation ; that the constant agitation 
in favor of the " unredeemed provinces," 
as the radical patriots call Savoy. Nice, 
Corsica, Malta, Tunis, Tyrol, and the 
Tessino, will be a powerful aid in bring- 
ing about a revolution ; that the Italians, 
instead of saying in the noble words of 
Mazzini : "God and People" {Dio e 
l>opolo), now put an accent over the e, and 
say, "God is the people" (Dio 6 popolo) 
They speak of the Republican manifesta- 
tions and festivities in recent years at 
Genoa, Bologna, Rimini, Aneona, and 
Turin, and prophesy that it will not be 
long before King Humbert will have to 
convoke a constituent assembly, in which 
the destiny of the Italian nation will be 
decided. 

This view of the intelligent and ambi- 
tious Catholics of Italy is worthy of 
careful note. Perhaps a portion of their 
prophecy will be fulfilled; but it is not 
probable that in our day the temporal 
power will be restored to the chief of 
the ( lunch at, the Vatican, or wherever 
else he may choose his residence. 



EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



425 



CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE. 



The German Parade on Lonjjchamps. — The Triumphal Entry Into Paris. — Shadows of Civil War. — 
Outhreak of " La Commune." — The Greatest Insurrection of Modern Times — Its Causes and Its 
Hopes. — The Association of the Generals. — The First Fights. — The Man i testation of the " Friends 
of Order." 



WHILE the French Assembly was 
agonizing at Bordeaux over the 
odious articles of the treaty of peace, 
King William of Prussia and his suite 
were passing in review the Sixth and the 
Eleventh Prussian corps, and the remains 
of the Second Bavarian corps, on the 
green sward at Longchamps. King Wil- 
liam had been over this ground twice 
before in his life, as a conqueror in 1814- 
15, and as a visitor in 1867, when sixty 
thousand of the flower of the French 
troops marched past him. 

A little less than thirty thousand < rer- 
mans participated in the review. The 
old monarch was stationed near the 
mined race-stand and seats on Long- 
champs, which had been entered by the 
Trocadero and Passy route, and by the 
long and brilliant Avenue de 1' Impera- 
trice. The King and the Crown Prince, 
however, returned to Versailles, making 
no attempt to enter Paris at the head of 
their troops in the style supposed to be 
traditionally fit for conquerors. The 
strict observance of Article III. of the 
conditions of peace was continued, so as 
to avoid all danger of collision between 
the Prussians and the Parisians, 'lite 
mass of the German army cared very 
little about the "triumphant entry." 
Paris was in universal mourning on this 
1st of March ; a black day for Frenchmen 
to count from and to swear against. 
There were but few cannon in the streets. 
Proclamations had been posted in cer- 



tain quarters containing threats against 

the lives of those who sold anything to 
( Germans, or were seen speaking to them. 
Black Hags and long streamers of mourn- 
ing were everywhere displayed. The 
statues of Strasbourg. Metz, Lille, and 
the sister cities in the grand Place de hi 
Concorde, were veiled and masked with 
crape, and here great barriers were 
erected at the streets into which the Con- 
vention did not allow the Germans to 
penetrate. The German troops did not 
pass under the Triumphal Arch, which 
had been surrounded with a barrier of 
iron chains, as if to intimate that no 
German could soil the sacred earth by 
his presence. The march called ••The 
Entry of Paris," which was played by 
the regimental bands, was lirst heard in 
the Champs Elysees in 181 1, when the 
Victorious Allies entered. 

Bismarck came in. almost unperceived, 
in a little caleche, and, muffled in a huge 
gray cloak, went to the barriers of the 
Place de la Concorde. 

One of the must pathetic episodes of 
the occupation of Paris was the invasion 
of the Hotel des Invalides. Doubtless 
there was a little malice cm the part of 
the Germans in stipulating for this priv- 
ilege. The haughty invader was glad to 
penetrate the old sanctuary of military 
glory around Napoleon's tomb, where 
some of his aged heroes, toothless, and 
but poorly provided with legs and arms, 
were still lingering above ground. Swag- 



426 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

gering officers in black anil red, with evacuated by the Germans, should at- 
their white gloves and their gala swords, tempi i<> take these cannon, why might 
interrogated the old invalids concerning it not be suspected of designs upon the 
the flags in the chapel, and probed the Republic? The logic was not very good, 
carvings around the great Emperor's but the Communists from the first pro- 
tomb with their weapons. This was an claimed their suspicions that M. Thiers 
overwhelming measure of vengeance, and and his government meant to bring back 
so the old French heroes thought. an empire or a monarchy. Early in 
No doubt there were some excesses March they issued a proclamation say- 
committed during the short occupation, ing : " The central committee of the Na- 
I'aul de St. Victor has .said of the Prus- tional Guard, nominated in an assembly 
sian, taking his inspiration from the of delegates representing more than two 
portrait of At.tila in the old chronicle: hundred battalions, announces as its mis- 
sile is frank or crafty, just or unjust, sion the constitution of a Republican fed- 
temperate or dissolute, humane or cruel, eration of the National Guard, organized 
according to his interests ;" and, it might so as to protect the government better 

be added, according to his prejudices. than permanent armies have done up to 
The German soldiers certainly did much the present time, and to defend the men- 
mischief and damage in certain houses aced Republic by all possible means." 
where they were quartered in Paris; but The collision came. The government 
it turned out afterwards that these houses made its attack on the bluff of Mont- 
were owned by political or literary per- martre, to take the cannon of which the 
sonages who had been especially (lis- National Guard was anxious to maintain 
agreeable to Germany. possession. The positions were sur- 

The outbreak of the Communal Insur- rounded by a battalion of chasseurs-a- 

rection came swiftly after the departure pied and another from the < hie Hundred 

of the Germans. On the great plain at, and Twenty-second regiment of the line, 

the top of Montinartre. near t lie old sig- taken by General Faidherbe's army. The 

nal tower of the aerial telegraph, were streets near by were occupied by line 

parked a large number of cannon, which regiments, and there were mitrailleuse 

the National Guard had hauled up thither batteries in all the labyrinth of sideways 

for safe-keeping. All around them they and by-ways of dubious reputation which 

had built barricades to protect them, and covered Montmartre's side, [t is needless 

many of the cannon were pointed towards to recite the history of the conflict, which 

the centre of Paris. The National Guard resulted in a defeat of the liners. The 

threatened vengeance if these weapons movement for carrying away the cannons 

were disturbed by Chanzy, or any other was stopped with a vigorous assault. An 

of the Generals whose troops were now immense disorganized body of the Na- 

arriving in Paris, fresh from the fields tional Guard rushed down upon the liners, 

where they had met. and fraternized with them. Many of the 

Here was the easy pretext for an open regular troops were demoralized because 

rebellion of the National Guard. If their government was lost, and the revo- 

the General Government, which had re- lution was practically declared, 
turned from Bordeaux to Versailles, and General Vinoy was hissed at. and was 

appeared likely to establish the capital obliged to retire hastily. The National 

of the country in the old city so recently Guard organized a meeting; and while 



EUROPE IN STOSM AND CALM. 



1-27 



they were deliberating, an immense crowd 
of men, women, and children Mocked 
the passage of the cannon -which the 
government artillerymen were vainly en- 
deavoring to move to a place of safety. 
While this was going on, the battalions 
of Belleville came puffing and steaming 
into the fight, hot with a rapid march. 
The Montmartre rebels retired, the newly 



The agitation spread quickly to Belleville 
and the Faubourg St. Antoine, and the 
Place de la Bastille was covered with the 
rebel troops. 

The funeral procession of Victor Hugo's 
son Charles was stopped in the Rue St. 
Antoine by a revolutionary committee 
engaged on a barricade, who announced 
that it could go no farther. Towards 



_. .;-. t.-&-^Sf ;ifc »^A^ .:-- 



Iftfc 



4^" 








THE TOP OF MONTMARTRE WHERE THE COMMUNIST CANNON WERE 

INSTALLED. 



arrived took their places, and a struggle 
began; officers were beaten; any man 
who raised his sword as if to command 
was shot at. Many of the government 
soldiers turned up the butts of their 
muskets in token of adhesion to the 
Revolution. The shooting grew more 
frequent and violent : many persons were 
wounded in the cafes and houses. Several 
soldiers were slain ; finally the line troops 
mutinied, and a whole squadron of gen- 
darmes was surrounded and imprisoned. 



3 o'clock placards were posted announc- 
ing that the riot was in possession of the 
Montmartre, Belleville, and Faubourg 
St. Antoine quarters. In the heart oi 
the city one heard that a " court-martial " 
was judging General Le Comte ; the old 
General Clement Thomas, commander 
of the National Guard of the city, was 
a prisoner. An hour later came the story 
that they had been foully assassinated 
without achance of justifying themselves, 
by unknown persons, who compelled the 



428 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM 

soldiers of the line to shoot them. Both The second important event in this 
General Thomas and General Le Comte greatest insurrection of modern times 
were taken to a small house in the Rue occurred on the 23d of March, when the 
iles Roziors at tour o'clock that afternoon, " Friends of ( )rder," as they called theni- 
and, without the semblance of a trial, selves, went in long procession down the 
were dragged into a garden, tied together, Rue de la Pais to the Place Vendome, 
and fired upon. General Le Comte was to reason with the rebels, who had there 
killed at once by a ball which struck him established their head-quarters. Many 
behind the ear; General Thomas was not people considered this foolhardy attempt 
wounded by the first discharge, and when as a Bonapartist trick, and refused for 
the second filled him » ith his death wound, this purpose to associate themselves with 
lie cried out ••Cowards!" and waited it. The day was line, the sunshine rest- 
tranquilly for the finishing stroke. ing upon the white fronts of the noble 
At live o'clock on the afternoon of this buildings in the line de la Paix, and on 
fated 18th of March the insurgents were the bronze Pegasus upspringing from the 
in full possession of the Hotel de Yille. roof of the new opera. Thousands of 
The ministries of war and justice in the ladies and gentlemen had gathered in 
Place Vendome and the regular govern- this square in front, of the Grand Opera, 
ment had but one resource, that of retir- and were looking curiously towards the 
ing speedily to Versailles, or of falling Place Yendoine, where there were four 
into the hands of captors who might have rows of shabby-looking sentinels, and 
proved severe judges. The Hotel de where grinning cannon, pointed upon 
Yillc was occupied by three regiments of the gaping crowd of cockneys, could be 
the line ; but the Communists succeeded seen. 

in inducing them to retire without light- The Parisian loves danger and lacks 
ing. Hundreds of thousands of people caution; and therefore the thousands 
came into the streets, and wandered about who came out to gaze upon the fortified 
watching the movements of the Com- camp of the insurrectionists surged for- 
munists ; but none of them was willing ward through the boulevards until they 
to believe that the movement was serious, were well into the mouth of the street. 
At nine o'clock, the National Guard of Meantime, the great mass meeting of 
Belleville were in possession of the whole the •' Friends of ( )rder," held near by, had 
central part of the city, hail sent to dispersed, and the masses, shouting 
demand the Official Journal, and were " Long live order!" moved down, sweep- 
printing manifestoes of what they had ing all before them. In a \\-\\ moments 
done and proposed to do. They an- the dense mass of men, women, and chil- 
nounced the raising of the state of siege, dren. nearly all from the upper ranks of 
the convocation of the people of Paris society, were surrounding the insurgents, 
for the Communal elections, and guaran- who at once heat their drums. The 
teed ihe security of all citizens. They greatest activity prevailed in the Place 
planted the red Hag on the Bastille Yendoine. Messengers were seen gallop- 
column, took possession of the principal ing oil to summon out new battalions, 
barracks; and excited foreigners were and new lines of guards sprang into sight 
telegraphing in all directions that the from behind the barricades at the rear 
Red Republic would be firmly established of the place. I saw the first line of in- 
in Paris on the following morning. surgents lilt their guns warningly, aud 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



429 




430 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

then retire as if frightened. While women :i ml Ihe yells of frightened men 

standing at the corner of the Rue des resounded everywhere. The blow had 

Petits Champs, which gave a direct view fallen, the Revolution was in earnest, 

upon tin* scene, 1 was amazed to see a and the people of the aristocratic classes 

whole line of sentinels suddenly envel- were now thoroughly convinced of it. 
oped in the crowd. The gentlemen waved About twenty men remained lying 

their hats in the air ; ladies waving their upon the ground, and were at once 

parasols and handkerchiefs cried <mt. surrounded by the insurgents, who ex- 

" Hurrah for order ! Lay down your arms, amined them. Ambulance men came 

and let us be friends!" At this moment out from their ranks, and the dead were 

there was a discharge of musketry; but carried away on stretchers. .Many 

1 saw that there was no confusion, and people had received uo Is in the 

fancied that s e of the frightened in- arms and legs, but were able to get 

surgents had tired in the air. Suddenly home. In ten minutes after the dead 
a second sharp rattling volley ran out, were removed the cannon were brought 
one or two cries of ■' Cowards and assas- up to the entrance of the Place Yen- 
sins!" were heard, and a general panic dome, and sentinels were pushed for- 
ciisucd. A few bullets rattled on the ward into the Rue de la Pais. The in- 
wall at the corner where I stood. One dignatiou among the Friends of Older 
wounded man was brought from the was so great that many returned along 
crowd into a side street, two rioters fob the bloody pavements and shook their 
lowing, and claiminghim as their prisoner, lists in the faces of the soldiers. Num- 
ainl that he had fired upon them. He bers of these people were arrested, and 
was in the uniform of :i Captain of Mo- a commission of examination was at 
biles, and was evidently dying. His once instituted in one of the buildings 
face was deathly pale, and the foam was in the Place Vendome. 
at his lips. Little quarrels immediately One man lay dead for two hours in 
sprang up all around. Well-dressed front of a chemist's on the Rue de la 
gentlemen took away a musket from one Paix. He had evidently been instantly 
of the insurgents, and menaced him with killed, and was forgotten in the mette 
the contents of it if he did not return of picking up, as the rebels were con- 
into his own lines. The cries became stantly expecting an attack from the 
louder. People who were hastily putting National Guard of the quarter. An 
up the shutters in all the shops ami American from St. Louis was also 
hotels along our street, even to the cor- killed by shots from the rioters. The 
ner where the Bellevillians stood, joined celebrated banker Hottingner, while 
in the outcry. Five minutes before, our earing for a wounded man. was hit 
street had been tilled with (lying people ; in the chest. General Sheridan was 
live minutes after, it was silent as the an eye-witness of the affair, and, ac- 
grave. The red-white-and-blue flag, cording to his testimony and that of 
the Hag of France, was brought towards many others, it would seem that the 
the line, bayonets and sabres were agi- insurgents certainly received consider- 
tated violently in the air, the Hag was able provocation to tire. Many of Ihe 
torn down, and another discharge, this men of order had revolvers in their 
time louder and more effectual, occurred, pockets, and that they were used in 
Then Ihe crowd tied, and the screams of the milrr is certain, because some of 



EUROPE IN STORM AM) CALM. 



431 



the Bellevillians were killed, and many 
were wounded. 

The Rue Neuve des Petits Champs 
was occupied by a large force, and 
sentinels were placed before each door 
to guard against any surprise on the 
part of the infuriated battalion, which, 
having had one taste of blood, seemed 
discontented without, more. The in- 
surgents gave me a soldier to accom- 
pany me to the head of the line de la 
Paix, and on our way we walked 
around a pool of fresh blood. The 
sentinels farther on had already as- 
sumed the revolutionary style. '• Pn.i- 
sez, citoyen," said each one: and I 
gained the invaded quarter in safety. 
All the insurgents with whom I talked 
seemed sorry that a collision had oc- 
curred, and some announced their opin- 
ion i hat it had injured the cause. 

On the following Friday morning I 
went with the American Consul and 
other Americans to the Place Veudome 
to claim the body of our countryman 
who had been killed. We were readily 
admitted, and found the greatest calm 
prevailing in the Place : and an immense 
number of insurgents was gathered 
there. We were ushered into the 
Credit Mobilier, transformed into a hos- 
pital, and there saw five dead bodies, 
two of which were pointed out by the 
insurrectionists as belonging to their 
movement. One was a fine, stalwart 
man, with flowing beard, but coarsely 
dressed in blue garments, with a blue 
sash around his waist. lie was shot 
twice in the back of the head with 
revolver bullets, and we were told that 
it was the first victim in the collision. 
One man, exceedingly handsome, richly 
dressed, and young, had been shot 
also in the head : and on his counte- 
nance there was a ghastly expression 
of terror. The Commandant of the 



Place sanctioned the removal of the 
body for which we came; and as the 

little procession, with a flag at its head, 
went out, all the insurgents doffed their 
hats. 

There were fresh alarms daily, but no 
more lighting. For many days alter the 
retirement of Admiral Saisset to Ver- 
sailles the people of the central quarter 
of Palis thought they were at the mercy of 
the Red Republicans, and that there was 
nothing to do but to compromise the 
situation. They dreaded an attack by 
the government from Versailles, where 
great masses of troops were assembling 
as fast as they could be returned from 
Germany; and a friend remarked tome, 
a few days alter the collision in the Rue 
de la Paix. that the advance columns of 
General Ducrot's forces along the Sevres 
road would cause more fear and trem- 
bling in the capital than the advent of the 
Prussians did. We now and then heard 
great booming of cannon in the Prussian 
lines, and the Communists claimed that 
thesegunswere fired in mockeiyof thedis- 
sensions of the French, — an interpreta- 
tion which was of course absurd. As for 
the Prussians, they were well satisfied with 
the season of rest which had arrived ; and 
at St. Denis, at Enghien, at Montmo- 
rency, and at all the suburbs in the 
northern sections, they were most com- 
fortably installed. At night the bivouac 
fires of the outposts were plainly visible 
from the walls of Paris. Every railway 
on the main lines had a Prussian in- 
spector, who never thought of allowing 
a train to start until its passengers had 
been carefully examined. The difference 
in the running-time between Paris and 
London was increased by one hour de- 
voted to the Prussians, at St. Denis. The 
Germans kept this line open during the 
whole insurrection, and there was never 
a time, not even excepting the seven 



4.>L' EUROPE IN STORM AXD CADI. 

days' fight, when one could nut freely selves, were quite free and easy in their 

have left the capital had he wished to communications with strangers, and 

do so. The Parisians, and especially mauy of the simple workmen, carrying 

those possessing large fortunes, began to guns, standing sentries in the Rue de la 

disappear. In less than a week after the Pai\ and on the central I levards, dis- 

shooting in the Rue de la Pais fifteen closed what they thoupht were the plans 

thousand persons left. Returning from of the Commune to English and Ameri- 

Ihe sea-coast through Civil, one day tOW- can people, and possibly even to Pl'llS- 
ards the close of .March. I found at that sians, without the slightest reserve. The 
station about fifty thousand ladies and officers, however, in time forbade con- 
gentlemen, all iii a state of excitement versation ; but the men only obeyed when 
which seemed to border on lunacy. The the officers were in sight. The riritiiilirn . s 
onlv passenger on the train besides myself were uot the least amusing of the odd 
was a Qneen's messenger, who got out features of the Communal military forces. 
a! Creil and took the branch line to Yer- They were usually women of middle age, 
sailles. The refugees from Paris set up a scarcely to be classed as handsome, clad 
shout when they saw my head at the win- in brown habits, and wearing bonnets 
dow of the railway carriage, and several whichwerea kind of compromise between 
gentlemen warned me not to return to the a Phrygian cap and a Tam O'Shanter. 
city, as there was fighting in every street, They excited much sport during the firsl 
and the Tenor was shortly to be estab- days of the Commune, before the young 
fished. These people were so thoroughly fashionables of the .lockcy Club and the 
convinced of tin' truth of what they said boulevards had become frightened, and 
that there was no reasoning with them. I when they mercilessly ridiculed every 
reached the Northern rail waj* station with- public demonstration of the Commune. 
out adventure, and walked down to my The Communal troops generally ear- 
apartments in the Rue desPetits Champs tied little red flags stuck in the muzzles 

without seeing au\ evidence whatever of their guns, when they were on the 
of the insurrection, except the cannon march; and many battalions had ban- 
grinning from the barricades in the Place neis with inscriptions signifying that 
Vendome. Paris was for six weeks there- they were the real men of order, etc. 
after, with the exception of an occasional These troops suffered from lack of food, 
cannonade and a pretty constant clatter and many of them did not sleep in-doors 
of musketry at a distance, more tranquil for a week together; but they were all 
that it usually is in spring and early convinced that Paris would win in the 
summer. great struggle, and thai the cities of the 
Presently the situation was clearly de- south would rally to her support. So, in 
lined. Versailles had determined to the bright sunshiny days, they managed 
besiege and take the rebels of the capi- to subsist on bread and an occasional 
tal at no matter what cost of blood and vegetable, and to eel along without pay. 
treasure. M. Thiers was in an angry The finances of the Commune were not 
mood, which was not at all softened by at all flourishing, although they were 
the decrees of the Commune against him administered, according to the testimony 
and the unroofing of his house in the of so good an authority as the London 
Place Si. Georges. The new masters of Times, with tile most rigid and absolute 
Paris, the citizens, as they called them- honesty, even to the disbursing of a 



EUROPE IN STORM AST) CALM. 



433 



centime. Jourde, the delegate for the ings at the Hotel de Ville were eharac- 
financial department, as the Communal terized by considerable decision and 
phrase had it, was a man of genius for capacity for despatch of business. Assi, 
finance, and did his work with a. swift- a workman of more than average abilitv. 
ness, and manifested an incorrupti- usually presided. lie and one of the 
bility, in striking contrast with the Generals wen- the men who saved the 
conduct of the officials of the 

Empire who had preceded 

him. But had the success of 
the Commune been prolonged 
it is probable that the Social- 
ists, who had crept into the 
party, would have found 
Jourde too good a man for 
their purpose. 

At the outset of the insur- 
rection the National Guard 
from the workingmen's quar- 
ters were all very sensitive of 
criticism upon their conduct, 
and not one of them showed 
any disposition to profit by 
the power which had been 
placed in his hands. The offi- 
cers would not allow the men 
to enter even the court-yards 
of the houses ; and it was an- 
nounced by printed proclama- 
tions, and in the orders of the 
day given to the troops, that 
any one detected in the theft 
of the smallest article from 
house or street would he shot. 
One evening when I went to 
the Kiosk for my newspapers, 
the marchemde was absent, 
and although the latest edi- 
tions of the papers were lying 
ready to the hand of the passers-by, I said 
to a soldier who was slouching beside the 




COMMUNIST TROOPS GOING TO THE FRONT. 



Commune from the dubious policy of at- 
tacking Versailles, a course which might 
have resulted in bringing on civil war 



Kiosk, "You appear to be guarding the 

newspapers." — "Ah," said the soldier, throughout France. 

" there is no occasion for alarm: there On the night before Admiral Saisset 

are no thieves here ; no one would touch left for Versailles. Paris was never more 

the papers were they made of gold." gay and beautiful. Thousands upon 

The insurrectionary committee meet- thousands of people thronged the streets, 



4.°,4 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM 



and the great avenues, flooded by the 
pure moonlight, echoed to the laughter 
and the shouts of the troops, who seemed 
inure as if they were on a pleasure ex- 
cursion than engaged in a military occu- 
pation. But in some of the streets held 
by the insurgents, one heard the constant 
cry, •• Sur la cliaussie, citoyen " (To the 
middle of the street, citizen); and In 1 
who diil not get off from the sidewalk 
was sometimes aided into the street by the 
butt of a gun. The Commune feared that 
Admiral Saisset's forces might attempt to 
occupy the principal points in the central 
quarter; so they had strong guards at 
all the important buildings. Hut. when 
morning came, and they found that the 
government forces had retreated, the 
vigilance was relaxed. La, Commune at 
once began to bluster and to boast. 

On the 26th of March elections were 
held, the Central Committee which had 
been the soul of the insurrection desiring 
to have its powers confirmed. These 
elections were held on Sunday, and one 
hundred and forty thousand votes were 
cast for the Communal body, and about 
sixty thousand votes lor the opposing 
faction. Among the elected were 
Flomvns, Blanqui, Felix 1'yat, and such 
extremists. It was rather amusing to 
observe, on this Sunday morning, the 
ostentation with which the Communists 
removed the cannon from the Place Yen- 
dome in accordance with their proclama- 
tion, stating that no citizen should 
complain that he had voted at the can- 
non's mouth. The Central Committee 
got its powers fully confirmed, and some 
of its more active members formed 
themselves into a sub-committee, in 
which the whole executive power of the 
Commune was subsequently concen- 
trated. 

Meantime, at Versailles, M. Thiers 
was preaching from the tribune that 



Monarchy was forever lost, in France, 
ami was telling even the Monarchists 
that they might conspire in vain. It 
was not until peace with Germany had 
been voted upon that M. Thiers made 
any definite declarations as to his con- 
version to Republicanism. For the 
Communists, he was. to the latest 
moment of the great struggle, a Mon- 
archist. They refused to believe in his 
professions of faith in the Republic, and 
it served their purpose to picture him as 
conspiring to bring back the old monarch- 
ical machinery. His vigorous action 
soon brought together, in the villages so 
recently evacuated by the Prussian con- 
queror, some eighty or ninety thousand 
men. The bridge of boats at Sevres 
was cut by General Ducrot's order; ar- 
tillery was planted on the hills far and 
near. With revolution in Paris, in Mar- 
seilles, and in Toulouse, with hundreds 
of thousands of energetic men in Paris 
led by desperate, unwavering leaders, 
M. Thiers had a gigantic task before 
him. II is courage does not appear to 
have weakened for an instant, and his 
coolness was the admiration of Europe. 

The fusillade of the Place Venddme 
was a kind of coup d'JEtat. It was fol- 
lowed up on the 28th of March by the 
formal declaration of the Commune in 
front of the Hotel de Ville. The cere- 
mony was not specially interesting. The 
members of the Communal Council gol 
together on a platform in front of the 
great Henri IV. entrance to the magnifi- 
cent building, which was doomed to per- 
ish in the flames a few weeks later; and 
there was a display of busts of the 
Republic crowned with Liberty-caps, and 
ornamented with red ribbons and flags. 
Salutes were fired from batteries of ar- 
tillery along the Seine : mam speeches 
were made ; and there was infinite 
drinking and shouting. The dates and 



EUROPE IN STORM AM) CALM. 



1.1.-. 



phraseology of the old Revolution began No sooner was this published than the 

to be employed. The OfficialJournal of exodus began, and did nut cease until 

the- 28th of March published the follow- nearly every Parisian of fortune who 

ing notice :" The citizens, members of the could get away had gone. The Com- 

Commune of Paris, are called together munal authorities made a great show of 

to-day, Wednesday, the 8th germinal, preventing departures from Paris, but 
at one o'clock exactly, 
al the Hotel de Ville." 

Every smallest and least 

important notice was pre- 
ceded by the phrase : 
•• ( 'ommune de Pai'is. — 
Rep a blique Frangaise. 
Liberty. Equality. Fra- 
ternity." 

The Central Commit- 
tee gave its powers into 
the hands of La Com- 
mune, which was a mere 
matter of form, designed 
to shield the personality 
of different members. 
'• The proclamation," it 
said, "of the 26th of 
March has sanctioned 
the victorious Revolu- 
tion." It then went on 
to abuse tlie Versaillais 
as presumable Monarch- 
ists, and stated that the 
first acts of the new 
power would be a deci- 
sion as to the lowering 
of rents and the renew- 
al of commercial paper. 
These were measures in- 
tended to conciliate tin 1 
middle class, which had 
been sorely distressed by 
the long business stag- 
nation consequent on the siege. The they were powerless in the matter. The 
Commune abolished conscription, and Commune struck a blow at the landlords 
decreed that no military force other as soon as it was firmly installed iu 
than the National Guard could be created power, by decreeing that no rent should 
or introduced into Paris. All valid citi- be collected from tenants for the terms 
zens were to be at once incorporated between October, 1870, and April, 1871 ; 
in the National Guard. and that all the sums that had been paid 




THIERS AND MACMAHON MEETING AT LONGCHAMPS 



430 



ECROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



for rent by tenants during those nine 
months should be credited to them on 
future terms. This took millions upon 
millions of francs out of the pockets of 
the house-owning class, and to this day 
the proprietaires cannot hear the Com- 
mune spoken of without getting into a 
towering passion forthwith. 

The effort of Paris to attain her auton- 
omy awakened a good deal of sympathy 
in the minds of the more intelligent of 
the property-holding classes; but this 
sympathy was not strong enough to in- 
duce the sympathizers to act openly with 
the Commune. Paris wanted, according 
to the Communists, to lay down an ulti- 
matum to the general government, de- 
manding a guarantee tor the autonomy 
of the great capital and for its recon- 
quered municipal authority. After the 
elections the barbers, tailors, shoe- 
makers, and bakers in the central quar- 
ters, who had all been a few days before 
fiery defenders of the law-and-order 
party, and loud in their denunciations of 
the assassins and the mob of convicts, 
became somewhat conservative, and 
showed a disposition to side with the 
powers that be. The Commune had at 
one time almost succeeded in convincing 
the majority of the Parisians that the 
National Assembly at Versailles was de- 
termined to restore monarchy, and that 
to Paris had been confided the glorious 
mission of sustaining and definitely 
founding the Republic. 

Meantime business was at a stand-still, 
and money was scarce; few shops were 
open. The Commune, from beginning 
lo end of its brief career, aped all the 
tricks of the preceding governments; 
and so it had an illumination on the 
night that the Commune was declared. 
This was .ailed the F&te of the Com- 
mune. The fete was meagre and of 



true Republican simplicity, — a few paper 
lanterns hung in the Place de la Concorde 
and in the Tuileries. The two trium- 
phal arches were brilliant with gas-jets. 
At the Hotel de Yille a line display was 
made. The National Guard and their 
wives ami daughters paraded the princi- 
pal streets, singing revolutionary soie_:~ ; 
and many of the men, despite the strict 
discipline to which they were supposed 
to be subject, were too much devoted to 
Bacchus. Returning home at midnight 
from an inspection of these illuminations. 
1 was approaching a sentinel at the 
coiner of the Rue Mont Thabor, and he 
halted me when I was certainly one hun- 
dred paces from him. " Passes au 
large!" screamed the guardian of the 
Republic, in a voice which showed signs 
of the influence of absinthe. liow to 
pass at any more respectful distance 
from this exacting sentinel than the 
width of the street I knew not. I was 
allowed to advance within ten paces, 
when, in a drunken rage, he cried, 
•■ Vbulez-vous passe]' an large?" evi- 
dently thinking that I meant to disarm 
him. '• Certainly," 1 said ; " which side, 
sentinel?" — " .1 votre gaache, alors." 
(To your left, then.) lint when 1 started 
to the left, he raised his musket, and, 
pointing it rather unsteadily at me, said, 
"Will you keep at a distance?" — 
"Shall 1 not pass on this side?" — 
" Sacre" nom de Dieu ! Do you not know 
which is your left hand ? " 

I begged his pardon for having vent- 
ured to judge for myself which was my 
left hand, and was finally permitted to 
pass alive on the side which I previously 
supposed to be my right. Drunken sen- 
tinels were numerous enough in those 
days, and were a source of annoyance, 
as. in their cups, they were exacting and 
suspicious. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



43 7 



CHAPTER FORTY-SIX. 



Decrees of the Commune. — The First Important Battle. — Flourens Loses His Life. — Notes on Communal 
Journalism. — The Burning of the Guillotine. — Great Funerals. — An Artillery Duel. — An Aston- 
ishing Spectacle. 



IN the early days of April some of the 
mote moderate of the Communists, 
among them Vermorel and Rane, • re- 
signed, believing that the movement had 
become too revolutionary and public to 
admit of further association with it. 
They did not mean by (heir resignations 
to imply that they despaired of leading a 
mob, but that they recognized the move- 
ment as indefinite in its aims, not hav- 
ing in view the foundation of any special 
government, either for Paris or France, 
but being merely a protest against king- 
ships, against the clerical reactionary 
party, and against what Mr. Carlyle 
called "clothes." 

In these first days of April too, the 
Commune published its famous decree, 
by which it impeached Thiers, Jules 
Favre, Picard, Dufaure, and others who 
had been prominent in the work of na- 
tional defence, because, as the proclama- 
tion declared, "the men of the govern- 
ment of Versailles had ordered and 
begun a civil war, had attacked Paris, 
slain or wounded National Guards, sol- 
diers of the line, women and children." 
They decreed the confiscation of the 
goods and chattels of these personages, 
and it was not long after that M. Thiers' 
house was visited ; his art treasures, 
which were many and very costly, were 
carried off and deposited in the Louvre, 
and his papers were tossed about by 
grimy hands. The decree of the 2d 
of April also announced the separation 



of Church and State, the suppression of 
the budget of public worship, and the 
seizure by the nation as national prop- 
erty, of till the houses and hinds belong- 
ing to religious congregations. How the 
Commune of Paris managed to make its 

decrees national n ie knew, and no 

one of the Communists endeavored to ex- 
plain. Most of the churches wereclosed, 
and in many cases, seals of the Commune 
were placed upon their doors. From 
time to time they were used for clubs, 
and offensive and blasphemous language 
was heard in the pulpits. The violent 
hatred of the great masses of the sup- 
porters of thi' Commune for the clergy 
had been manifest from the beginning 
of the Commune, and increased in in- 
tensity until it culminated in the mas- 
sacre of the Archbishop and his col- 
leagues. 

On the 3d of April came the first im- 
portant battle in which the Communist 
troops were engaged in front of Paris. 
Flourens here lost his life ; Duval, ;m 
energetic Communist, was taken pris- 
oner, and shot ; and the Communist 
papers were filled witlt details of the 
ferocious conduct of the Versailles troops. 
The fact is, that the insurrectionists 
were treated, from first to last, with the 
greatest rigor ; and in the early battles 
of the insurrection, little quarter was 
given on either side. 

After the disestablishment of the 
Church by the Commune, the insurrec- 



438 EUROPE TN STORM AND CALM. 

tionists took every occasion toshowtheir tures in the comic papers devoted to the 

contempt for religious names and relig- Commune were often extremely irrever- 

ioiis employments. One day an abbe ent. In one, Jules Favre was represented 

applied to the Communal officers for as Judas, and the quotation from St. 

permission to visit a prisoner in the Con- Matthew concerning tin 1 faithless kiss of 

ciergerie. "Who are you?" said tin 1 the betrayer was applied to a big-headed 

Jack in Hoots who was in authority. Favre kissing an ugly-looking wench, 

"I am a servant of Cod," was the in a red dress, supposed to represent 

answer. lie was given a pass con- the Republic. In another, Thiers was 

eeived thus: ••Allow freely to pass Citi- represented as an accomplished acrobat, 

zen - - , servant of a person called upholding on his broad shoulders all the 

God." This partook of mountebankery, aspirants to royalty and the throne of 

and was significant of what was to come. France. 

All tin' Catholic institutions were visited Curious and impressive was the scene 
and minutely inspected, and (he author!- enacted on the horrible Place de la Ro- 
ties sought every pretext for their sup- quette, where Troppmann's execution had 
pression. One superior of a well-known occurred some time before. The Coin- 
institution achieved a veritable triumph munists, in searching among the prisons, 
when visited by one hundred armed men. which they were very fond of in- 
who persist ed in searching his place, saj'- specting, found pieces of seventeen 
ing that enemies of the Republic were guillotines, old and new, and therefore 
concealed therein. He opened his doors they sent forth hither and you men to 
freely, and took them through a long rattle on drums and announce that the 
suite of rooms, all of which were filled aforesaid guillotines would be publicly 
with wounded insurgents ; and the would- burned on the Place of the Condemned. 
lie inspectors went away very much "Come and see, citizens, the promise 
ashamed of* themselves. of La Commune that a reign of terror 
The worst kind of journalism began shall not lie reestablished, at least with 
to flourish so soon as the Commune was guillotines, for it is so easy to be con- 
fairly installed in office, and lasted until demned by them, once they are in e,„,(| 
the close of the insurrection. The in- working order; within their fatal arms 
famous and scurrilous u P$re Duchene" they are always seeking to enfold you. 
was tin' most disgusting of these journals. Let us annihilate the scarlet destroyers." 
It was a low, blackguard publication, And so blazing piles were heaped high, 
like the anonymous prints of Congreve's anil thousands of people danced in joy 
time, and was, in many respects, an around the fires in which perished the 
exact copy of its prototype of (he old blood-stained machine under whose 
Revolution. If was filled with oaths and knife Orsini died. The women were the 
exclamations which bordered closely on most enthusiastic participants in this cer- 
revolting vulgarity; and the comments emony of burning the guillotines, and 
of this ••I'i'rr Duchene" were supposed they danced, marched, and howled about 
to embody the official opinions of the flames for hours, evidently taking as 
the Commune. " Pkre Duchene" talked much delight in it as they did in laboring 
of hanging, burning, drawing and on the ramparts, another of their favor- 
quartering the bourgeois and llie aristo- ite amusements, fortifying against those 
(mis without compunction. The earica- whom they were pleased to term the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



439 



"Prussians of Versailles." A common 
spectacle on the fortifications was a row 
of National Guards seated gravely smok- 
ing their pipes while the women were 
digging at the turf and the soils and 
piling them up on the ramparts. 

One day near the insurrectionist bar- 
ricades, on the Place Vendome, 1 dis- 
covered an acquaintance of mine, aged 
six years, industriously employed in 
rearing rival barricades with lots of pav- 
ing-stones, left where the 
street had been torn up. 
In the embrasure of these 
few stones he and his 
compa n ions presently 
mounted a toy cannon, 
pointed at the defenders 
of La Commune. A sen- 
tinel looked curiously on ; 
bystanders smiled ; the 
child's hair blew about 
his forehead, fanned by 
the evening breeze, and 
his face took on a fero- 
cious aspect as he tugged 
at the heavy stones. 

The One Hundred and 
First Battalion of the in- 
surgents was quite fa- 
mous. It was composed of 
small, thin, and ignorant 
workmen from the sub- 
urban quarters, meanly and not quite uni- 
formly clad. Their weapons were of all 
shapes and sizes, and to see them marching 
along one of the splendid boulevards one 
might have imagined that Jack Falstaff 
and his army had come to town. But 
they fought like demons, never missing a 
chance in the trenches before Paris. The 
battalion conducted itself well. It. was 
the first battalion in the Place Vendome ; 
it captured two cannon and a mitrailleuse 
at Chatillon from the Versailles troops, 
and wherever it appeared thereafter 



among the Communists it was received 

with cheers. 

One morning the bill-boards of the 
Commune were placarded with tin' fol- 
lowing notice, dressed in deep mourning : 
" Citizens: — La Commune of Paris invites 
you to attend the burial of our brethren 
assassinated by the enemies of the Re- 
public during the days of the 3d, 4th, 
and 5th of April. The meeting will 
be at the Hospital Beau jean, at two 




DEATH OF FLOURENS. 

o'clock ; burial at the cemetery of Pere 
La Chaise." 

From curiosity or sympathy, thou- 
sands attended the funeral, and three 
immense hearses, with sixteen dead Na- 
tional Guards in each, moved slowly up 
the streets to the far-off cemetery that 
afternoon. I had seen the burial pag- 
eantry of a Marshal of the Empire, but 
it was not so impressive as this. Thou- 
sands of troops followed slowly with un- 
covered heads, and the armed escort, 
headed by muffled drums and a number 



440 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

of trumpeters playing mournful airs, entirely unarmed when I had visited it a 
met with marks of respectful sympathy week and a half before, now seemed 
everywhere. Each man wore an immor- magnificently provided with cannon, and 
telle, and this gave to the whole proces- vomited fire and smoke continuously. 
sion the air of a vast parterre covered ' >ver Chatillou little puffs constantly 
with blossoms. There were few noisy arising showed that the insurgents had 
demonstrations. The occasional roar of a battery there also, and were making 
the cannon reminded every one that there the most of the defensive works which 
was no time for wasting tears or breath, the Prussians had left behind them. 
As the head of the funeral procession Gradually the whole horizon beyond was 
reached the point opposite the Chauss<5e enveloped in the smoke from batteries, 
d'Antin, where there weremany thousands and the thunders of the artillery were 
of spectators massed together, another distinctly audible for miles around. On 
funeral procession, composed of a shabby the greal plain below, that which, in 
hearse with a pine-wood coffin in it, fol- 1867, received upon its vast expanse the 
lowed by half a dozen humble people, came delegates of all the nations, several thou- 
out from the Rue Louis le Grand, ami sand men were manoeuvring. The sheen 
crossed directly at right angles. Misery of their arms, the occasional faint 
and splendor in burial ceremonial were echoes of martial music, borne to us on 
never in more startling contrast than the breeze, gave us all the spirit of a 
here, and a sob of sympathy seemed to review, while we were in the presence of 
burst from the spectators in profound an active battle. The whole space in 
unison. The addresses at the cemetery front of the Ecole Militaire was occupied 
were full of vindictive threats and allu- by regiments of National Guards, who 
sions to the cowardly assassinations of manoeuvred with much precision. Abrill- 
the brothers in arms. The death of iant staff rode up and down commanding 
Flourens, which had been a great blow imperiously, but with our field-glasses we 
to the Commune, was more than once could discern that they cast timid glances 
alluded to in a manner which showed in the direction of Issy. where the battle 
that vengeance was intended. Next day every moment gained in vigor. Its tre- 
I rode to the review which the Commn- mendous fusillade was showing its white 
nists had announced to take place on the line of smoke under the batteries of Issy. 
Champ de Mais, and, in common with and the Versailles troops and the wa- 
thoiisands of other spectators, was com- vering response on the insurgents' side 
fortablv ensconcing myself on the sunny indicated that the fort was now in dan- 
slope of the Trocadero, when my atten- ger. 

tion was arrested by a tremendous can- Suddenly we heard the sharp voice of 
nonading, which burst suddenly upon our the insurgents' batteries in the neighbor- 
hearing from the direction of Fort Issy. hood of the Avenuede la Grande Armde, 
The. thousands of spectators turned their and hastened towards the ramparts at 
eves towards the fort, and it was evident that point, where a gate opened into the 
to all that a great artillery duel was be- Porte Maillot. Here I was brought to 
ginning. The Versailles troops had es- a sharp halt by a sentinel, who assured 
tablished their batteries on a plateau me that I could go no farther ; and even 
between Meudon and Issy, ami were the production of numerous Communistic 
firinc briskly. But the fort, which was passes was of only sufficient avail to 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CADI. 



441 



procure me a threat of immediate arrest now endeavoring to retake. This barri- 

if I ventured to mount the ramparts. I cade was stoutly defended by the insur- 

turned away, ami proceeded in the direc- gents, who were protected by batteries 

tion of the Triumphal Arch. On getting on all sides. 

near this monument, whence I could In and around the Triumphal Arch, and 

have an unobstructed view of the Neuilly half-way down the avenue of the Grand 

gate and as far as Courbevoie, on the Army, in the direction of the fighting, 

long, straight avenue of Neuilly, which was clustered, perched, stuffed, packed, 

runs without the slightest curve or break and jammed together, a crowd of perhaps 




THE RUE PERRONET AT NEUILLY. 



until the hill shuts out the view beyond, 
I saw that a battle was engaged, and 
shells were beginning to fall unpleasantly 
near. Many exploded in the air, and 

each shell was said to have one hundred 
bullets in it. At the top of the hill just 
mentioned is a large tower, and half-way 
between this tower and the gate of the 
Paris fortifications was a huge barricade, 
which the Versailles troops had held the 
day before, had abandoned, and were 



thirty thousand people. Must of these 
were citizens of Paris, and from the upper 
classes. They were in carriages and 
dog-carts, mounted on omnibuses, and 
on the balconies and roofs of the sur- 
rounding houses. Men and women, 
elegantly dressed, joked and laughed 
over the struggles of the lighting men on 
the hills and plains below. It was like 
a ( Wand Prix day in the Boisde Boulogne. 
It was impossible for a stranger to under- 



442 EUROTE IX STURM AND CALM. 

stand how these people of society looked immense clouds of smoke, for ten minutes 

with such evident unconcern at what at a time. Now and then one or two 

seemed to be the beginning of a saugui- men would disappear under the crushing 

nary civil war. The men cheered and explosion of a shell ; then a tremendous 

the women waved their handkerchiefs musket-fire would break out from hedge 

whenever a shell burst, but for what and house and wall, directed at the ap- 

reason they would have been puzzled to proaehing Versailles artillery -men, and 
say. The foolishly frivolous and fashion- the crowd regarded it as a glorious spec- 
able class, which neither represented tacle, and laughed, and ate bonbons, and 
Paris nor France, was in full force en went quietly home to dinner. But it was 
this occasion ; and once or twice 1 the astonished to learn that, an hour after it 
Communists, stalking about in the crowd, had left, shells were falling thickly on and 
showed an inclination to strip these line around the Arch. 

birds of their feathers. Numbers of car- The government troops had got. the 
riages filled with American ladies and contested barricade again at considerable 
gentlemen were grouped about the Tri- loss, and were now steadily approaching 
umphal Arch. Here and there people the gates. When 1 left shells were fall- 
were so enthusiastic in their praise of the ing by dozens in the rich and fashionable 
Communal troops as to call out adverse quarter, — the Yersaillais not hesitating 
criticism from their aristocratic neighbors to bombard tin' capital, although they 
in the gathering. had called the Prussians Vandals because 
Now and then a little panic was pro- they hail done the same thing. Many 
duced by the ambition of^some shell, which insurgents were coming hack from the 
overleaped the range of the previous fight, cross and bleeding, and elbowing 
ones, and which fell with a frightful citizens in no gentle spirit; fresh artil- 
erash, and not faraway. Every moment lery trains driven by liners who had de- 
shells came up steadily in a little puff of serted at the outbreak of the Commune, 
white smoke, which was speedily illumi- and the guns, manned by soldiers in 
Dated by a flash and then died away, all kinds of uniforms, rattled up through 
Sometimes the line of battle in front of the Champs Klysees. and went towards 
the gate, only a short half-mile from the the gates. With the glass we could see 
Arch, would be seen to waver under the that Xeuilly had been badly demolished ; 
pressure of the tire of regular troops; houses had been riddled with shell, and 
then the whole avenue would look like a many people were lulled in the street, 
furnace, with jets of flame escaping from 



EURO Pi: IN STORM AND CALM. 



443 



CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN. 



Pictures <>f the Commune. 
Public instruction. - 



— General Cluscret. — Tin- Hostages. —A Visit to the Communal Ministry "i' 
-The Armistice. — Touching Incidents of the Fratricidal Struggle. 



DURING the whole of the month of 
April a vigorous but useless fight 
was kept up between troops of the Com- 
mune and those nf the regular govern- 
ment at Versailles. The battle on the 
road to Neuilly, described in the last 
chapter, was claimed by the Communal 
authorities as a victory, and the Com- 
mune issued a flaming despatch in which 
it said that "Bergeret himself" was at 
Neuilly. This " Bergeret himself" 
•jmused the Parisians who were not 
sympathetic with the Commune, and the 
poor fellow never heard the last of it, 
although he was soon replaced as the 
delegate for war by Cluseret, who inau- 
gurated his campaign by posting up a 
proclamation to the people of Paris, in 
which he said that the Versailles troops 
were shooting the prisoners, killing the 
wounded, and firing upon ambulances. 
About this time the Parisians discovered 
that they were doomed to suffer a second 
bombardment, which seemed likely to 
prove much more serious than that to 
which they had been subjected by the 
Prussians. The bombardment of the 
siege cost Paris but only one hundred 
and ninety lives; but that of the Ver- 
sailles troops was far more deadly, and 
appears to have been of no use whatso- 
ever in hastening the surrender of the 
capital. 

In these early days of April we went 
into the bombarded quarter every day to 
see the sights, and to bring back to the 
deserted boulevards the gossip from the 



front. There was at that time no pillage ; 
the citizen guards were neither brutal 
nor impolite. Women were treated with 
genuine respect, ami although a Belgian 
correspondent had telegraphed to his 
journal that the excitement had made 
every one ghastly anil green with fear, 
and ready to gnaw his fingers with re- 
morse, such was not the rase. Am- 
bulances were almost the only vehicles 
seen in the bombarded quarters. The 
red (lag waved on the tops of all the 
buildings and most of the churches ; 
barricades were going up right and left 
in the principal sheets. Citizen Pascal 
Grousset, destined to become famous in 
connection with the Commune later on, 
was the head of the commission for the 
construction of barricades. Half-way 
up the Champs Elysees, the officers of 
battalions guarding that quarter had 
made a line of demarcation, beyond 
which only those citizens honored with 
passes were allowed to go. 

A visit to this quarter which I made 
on the 9th of April, may serve as typical 
to visits any day thereafter until the 
entry of the regular troops into Paris. 
All the side avenues radiating from the 
Ale de Triomphe were filled with soldiers ; 
guns weie stacked in one street, and 
liners, who had deserted at the outbreak 
of the Commune, were tranquilly build- 
ing fires to boil their coffee, paying little 
attention to the shells which came every 
minute or two into their neighborhood. 
We were halted by an officer at the 



444 EUROPE IN STORM AM> CALM 

Arch, and this diminutive official pro- and then retire as coolly as if he wore 

ceeded to examine <>ur papers with much leaving his box at the opera, 
dignity, when a series of sharp hisses In a few moments we were standing 

followed by a deafening crash caused directly in front of the Arch in the 

the little Frenchman hurriedly to crumple Avenue de la Grande Armee ; and here 

up our passes, throw them into our a soldier remarked that the RoyaHsts, 

carriage, and force our reluctant coach- as the Versailles troops were called, 

man forward. The shell struck in the were haul at work. Why they should 

centre of the Avenue des Champs Elys6es, have chosen to bombard the quarter in- 

seudiug its deadly fragments in all direc- habited almost exclusively by wealthy 

lions. Then came a tremendous series Parisians and foreigners this soldier was 

of detonations, and the air was filled at a loss to discover, and we quite 

with bullets, and the d&bris of what was ngreed with him that it would have 

called a mit.raille box. From all sides been, from a Versailles point of view, 

came eel s. sounding like protests from more practical to shell Belleville and La 

the departing owners of the fine residences Villette. When we came back to the 

lining each side of the avenue. At the line de Presl rg, a lady showed us in 

Ottoman Embassy we found numerous the upper chamber of a mansion the 

marks of shot and shell, ami two people wreck of costly furniture, bric-d,-brae, 

Hen- killed at the very doors of the Sevres china, and line paintings just 

Embassy that morning. The younger caused by a shell from a Versailles 

soldiers were so excited that they jostled battery. Near by, a fine villa, occupied 

us right and left and made rather sharp by an American family, had been visited 

comments on the curiosity-seekers. The by so many shells that all the treasures 

men on guard were of the better class; in a beautiful art cabinet were demol- 

somc had been forced in ; others had ished. The day previous to our visit in 

volunteered, and were anxious to light, the direction of the Porte Maillot, while 

In the Hue de Chaillot we saw Mr. a poor woman was giving her soldier- 

Washburne's carriage driving rapidly husband a dinner she had brought him, 

away, the old gentleman quietly reading a shell killed him and carried away part 

the morning paper as he went his round of the woman's face. Almost at the 

of daily duties, which in variety and same time a sentinel was killed by the 

piquancy have never been equalled in discharge from a gun hung over the 

tin 1 history of the American Legation shoulder of an orderly galloping by, 

in Paris. the gun being touched by a fragment 

When the great tight at the Porte of shell, which embedded itself in the 

St. Martin Theatre was at its height, orderly's back. 

when houses on either side of the The curiosity of the Parisians caused 

street were completely wrecked, and many casualties; but as soon as a 

a storm of shot and shell had raged for wounded man was seen a group gathered 

more than two hours, I saw our Ameri- about him, and. while they were gazing at 

(•an minister quietly drive up to the him, the splinters from newly arriving 

barricade, and, stepping into the front shells made many victims among them, 

rank of the regulars, take out his opera- Out of two hundred wounded people 

glasses, survey as much of the situa- taken to the hospital at the Palais de 

tion as was possible through the smoke, I'Industrie, the attendant physicians said 



EUROPE IX STORM AM) CALM. 



445 



that hardly ti'ii per cent, could survive. 
Nearly all these men were struck down 
by shells just ready to explode. The 
avenue leading to the Bois de Boulogne 
was empty and desolate enough. A 
few soldiers hang about the gate lead- 
ing into the w 1. and a solitary sen- 
tinel on the ramparts was hugging his 
gnu. 

At the American Legation there was 
no sign of life. A half-drunken old 
man, drawing an apple-cart, as he passed 
the door of the Legation had his patriot- 
ism awakened by the spectacle of ex- 
ploring strangers, and had just taken 
one of us by the collar for a Prussian, 
when he stumbled and fell ; and there 
was a terrific crash which nearly fright- 
ened him out of his senses. Picking 
himself up, he took his apple-cart and 
departed in haste for a safer neighbor- 
hood. It was a curious spectacle to see 
hundreds of ladies and gentlemen watch- 
ing the white smoke puffs of Valerien, 
and to see them retire gradually as the 
gunners got their range, and as the shells 
came nearer and nearer. The children 
went on calmly playing hop-scotch in 
the streets, and men and women sat 
in their doors waiting for events, and 
gossiping about the wounded. No 
American lady who visited Paris during 
the Commune thought her morning com- 
plete without she had been driven out 
under fire and had seen some incident 
of the bombardment. The Communist 
officers were very fond of parading be- 
fore strangers, and usually made artful 
appeals to their sympathies. Dombrow- 
ski, and men of his type, made a good 
appearance, and their eloquence was 
sometimes quite convincing. 

One morning I was at the Ministry of 
War, engaged in conversation with Gen- 
eral Cluseret's secretary, when a chief 
of battalion entered, aud announced that 



his men were mutinous and no longei 
desired to march. " Disarm them, citi- 
zen !" was the answer. " But 1 cannot 
disarm them," he said. " They will be 
about the streets dying with hunger in a 
few days if 1 do that. You know there 
is no work, ami we cannot afford" — 
Here he was sternly interrupted, aud 
informed that the Commune had no 
duties towards any man who would not 
fight U> protect it. and that if the recal- 
citrant needed any charity, after tlie\ 
weic disarmed, they might go to Ver- 
sailles to get it. The result was that 
the men did not cany out their intention 
to mutiny. Calhoun speaks somewhere 
of the cohesive force of plunder; but 
here it was the cohesive force of a com- 
mon misery which kept these men in the 
Communal movement. 

At this time the Communal insurrec- 
tion was respected and dignified; but it 
was destined soon to degenerate into the 
broadest license, and the wildest social- 
ism, and most vindictive carnage. The 
Conservative party, in its fright and in 
its anger, invented accounts of the exe- 
cution of priests and the sacking of con- 
vents and churches which had never 
taken place. The Sacristan of Notre 
Dame even wrote to the Paris papers 
that his golden and silver vessels re- 
mained in the same receptacle where 
they had lain for years, and denied the 
story that the Communists had inquired 
for them. 

The famous decree of the Commune as 
to hostages was published on the 6th of 
April, and was provoked, it is said, by 
the fact that the Versailles troops gave 
no quarter, and that the hundreds of 
suspected persons who had been ar- 
rested and imprisoned in the gloomy 
garrison building at Versailles were 
treated with great harshness. Article 
Fifth of the Communal decree declared 



44(! EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

that any executi f a prisoner of war. General Cluseret, in his post as dele- 

or a person of the regular government of gate for war, was the virtual head of 
the Commune of Paris, should be in- the insurrection until his rigid devotion 
stantly followed by those of a triple num- to discipline made him unpopular, 
berof hostages, who should be designated < >ne of his first announcements was that 
by lot. This was generally considered by he did not intend to be disobeyed. He 
the property-holding classes as the inau- signed one of his preliminary orders 
filiation of a new reign of terror. The " Minister of War," on his own ac- 
arrests of the venerable Archbishop of count, and no one contradicted him, 
Paris, the dm' of the Madeleine, and because he seemed competent to fulfil 
various other of the numerous cede ;ias- the duties of that position. His court- 
tics, and their imprisonment in the Con- niartials worked quickly, and had but 
ciergerie, constituted a fatal error, and little mercy. The General had lived 
the more intelligent of the Communists poorly and fared hard for many years in 
recognized from the first that it had pursuance of the cause of liberty. A 
placed them under the ban of public consummate energy and a certain dash 
opinion in more than three-quarters of and bravery were his chief qualities. 
the communes in Fiance. The Arch- Not very long before; the Empire came 
bishop wrote a letter explaining his to grief, Cluseret was visited in bis lodg- 
position ; that he was held as a hostage, ings at Suresnes by some Imperial 
ami saying that, if the barbarities of agents, who informed him that he was 
which the Communists accused the Ver- their prisoner. He denied this soft iin- 
saillais really existed, they were highly peachment, and announced to them that 
reprehensible. The Archbishop added he was a naturalized American citizen, 
that he wrote this sentence under no I le insisted upon being taken before Mr. 
threat, but of his own free will, as a YVashburne, who accompanied him to 

g I French citizen. the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and 

A few days after the prelate's arrest there a species of convention was made 
a friend said to me, " I have been this by which Cluseret was allowed to re- 
morning to get my cure released. I told main ten days on French soil. Before 
the Communists that they were keeping these had expired he had obtained an- 
in prison a Republican and a much older other ten days of grace; and so he 
revolutionist than themselves, and that I continued to prolong his residence until 
myselfwas prosecuted for my liberal prin- he had accomplished the revolutionary 
ciples long before many of the leaders in work for which he had reentered the coun- 
this movement were born. They informed try. From the first he was determined 
me that the cure was kept merely as a not to deceive the Parisians as to what 
hostage; that they were compelled to use they mighl expect even if they achieved 
severe measures to diminish the arro- their aim of making Paris a free city, 
gance of the Versailles troops ; and that He warned them against all Socialistic 
there were so many priests connected nonsense, and assured the soldiers that 
with conspiracies for the reestablishment they would have to go back to be simple 
of the Empire, or fora new monarchy, that workmen as before. Aided by a some- 
they would doubtless be compelled to ar- what remarkable chief of staff, he re- 
rest them all. The\ denied, however, ceived hundreds of visitors daily, and 
that any priest had been maltreated." despatched immense quantities of work. 



FIROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



447 



One morning, as I went to his offices, I 
was accosted by a captain, who said to 
me in English, " I am from Pawtucket, 
and have come home just now to help." 
Another inquired timidly what the Ameri- 
cans really thought of the cause of 
Paris, ami scowled as I explained to 
him the drift of opinion beyond the sea 
as to the great Communal insurrection. 

The list of unsuccessful amputations 
during these anxious days was enor- 
mous, considering the reputation for 
surgery that the French had theretofore 
maintained. The chief surgeon at the 
ambulance of the Palais de l'lndustrie 
told me that of one hundred and forty- 
five wounded brought to him in two 
days, all but five per cent, would die. 
The great number of ambulances, as the 
extemporized hospitals were called, 
which had existed during the Prussian 
siege, had been dissolved or scattered 
right or left ; and so the Commune under- 
took to form ambulance companies, each 
containing twenty doctors or health 
officers, sixty medical students, ten wag- 
ons, and one hundred and twenty litter- 
carriers. Each company was divided 
into six squadrons, two of which must 
at any time lie found in the ward to 
which they belonged ; and all these 
were to be subject to the orders of a 
medical commission sitting at the Hotel 
de Ville. The doctors received the pay 
of captains. The Communists accused 
the Versailles government of allowing 
its batteries to play upon the press am- 
bulance just inside the fortifications, a 
hospital in which live hundred seriously 
wounded men were lying. But each of 
the contesting forces claimed that the 
other did not respect the Geneva flag. 

The flotilla of gun-boats on the Seine 
and the Trocadero batteries were the 
sensations of mid- April. The eight 
gun-boats, which had done such great 



service against the Prussians, now hail a 
red flag floating above them, kept steam 
constantly up, and were ready to go 
into any engagement where they could 
lie useful. Their duty was to keep the 
Seine clear of any sudden invasion of 
Versailles troops. The batteries of the 
Trocadero had been throwing shell into 
Mont Valerien, a feat which few observ- 
ers thought they could accomplish from 
Trocadero, which in those days was a 
barren plateau with long flights of stone 
steps leading down to the Seine. The 
spectacle was remarkably tine. The 
whole horizon would be obscured by 
white smoke for a few moments, then 
the veil would arise, and the battered 
hulks of forts Issy and Montrouge would 
loom up and disappear like phantoms in 
the battle mist. The smoke from the 
batteries at the Porte Maillot and at 
these forts hung like a pall over the 
city one evening, and the fusillade was 
so heavy and sustained that many peo- 
ple rushed out of their houses expecting 
to find Versailles troops in the Place de 
la Concorde. 

On the morning of the 23d of April I 
went to the Ministry of War, and, after 
some waiting, saw General Cluseret, 
with whom I had an interesting conver- 
sation. The General was dressed in the 
simplest manner, wearing an old Ameri- 
can Alpine hat, and a plain suit of trav- 
elling clothes, rather the worse for wear. 
The anteroom, as well as the grand inner 
hall where the officers of the Second 
Empire had so lately disported them- 
selves, was tilled with troopers of all 
shapes, sizes, and conditions. One cav- 
alry man, covered with mud from head 
to foot, leaned wearily on his sword and 
told the story of an attack ; another 
stroked his long yellow mustaches, and 
growled because his men could not 
get any bread to eat. A group of 



448 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



liners, one or two blood-stained and 
half-famished, clamored for the < General, 
and insisted on seeing him. When the 
babel was at its height, Cluseret stalked 
out of bis office, jostled the soldiers right 
and left, and exclaimed that he could 
not be bothered with these silly tales ; 
and each complaiuer shrank away, lie 
went to an inner room, where the council 
of war was at once called, and one could 
sec him through the open door, deciding 
and discussing measures anxiously, but 
with a force of will which swept, every- 
thing before it. Yet lie admitted that 
there was plenty of cause for discour- 
agement, and that not even the most ex- 
traordinary animal magnetism could for 
any length of time overcome and cow 
so manv thousands of unruly spirits as 
were to be found in the ranks of the 
( 'ommuuists. 

Those officers and troopers who came 

and went in the war-ollice seemed will- 
ing enough to die for the Commune, if 
it were necessary. Among them were 
many old men, hard-featured, with sixty 
winters' snows on their heads; and two 
or three of these venerable rebels told 
me that they were volunteers. They 
were risking their heads for forty sous a 
day, said the bourgeois; but 1 believe 
that they were honest in motive, and, 
had thev been properly drilled, would 
have done wonders. 

Over the gate of the Ministry of War 
fluttered the red flag, with an inscription 
of the Commune of Paris on its folds, 
.lust within the portico, where the sun- 
light was merry on the gorgeous glass 
and gilding, a pretty can.tinie.re had 
taken off her shoes and stockings ami 
was washing her feet after a long march. 
Every few minutes processions of small 
boys, from eleven to sixteen years of 
age, marched by, each flourishing a crim- 
son drupeau. The marines, who were de- 



serters from the Versailles army, were just 
going out to the front on this day. They 

wen' enthusiastic in their cries for the 

freedom of Paris. A little drummer- 
boy, eleven years old. marshalled them 
along, and a great crowd gathered to see 
them match past. Then came lumber- 
trains and requisition-wagons, badly 
mounted orderlies galloping to and fro, 
and slouching Mobiles, with their guns 
slung (in their shoulders, men sullen in 
aspect, and not soldierly in mien. 

Armed with a letter of introduction I 
went on this same day to visit the citizen 
Minister of Public Instruction at the 
Hdtel dc Ville, which edifice 1 found SO 
surrounded with barricades and sentinels 
that it seemed impossible to approach. 
At last, by tortuous ways, we got into the 
square around which so many revolu- 
tionary currents had eddied, and where 
Louis XL's hangmen had elevated their 
cross-tree and ladder so many times. 
At the entrance to the last barricade 
was a citizen more or less under the 
influence of drink, as Communist senti- 
nels were too often found. To this citi- 
zen I was compelled to read my letter 
of introduction twice, ami to exhibit all 
the papers which I carried in my pock- 
ets, among them a telegram some two or 
three years old. The huge red seal. 
with the outlined woman supposed to 
represent the goddess of war sitting 
upon an outlined throne, with rays of 
glory about her head, finally satisfied 
this good man, and I passt d up through 
a row of mitrailleuses and pieces of 
twelve, as the French called them, into 
the gate of the great Hotel de Ville. 
Some of the cannon were curiously pro- 
tected by heavy iron shields, so arranged 
as to shelter the artillery-men in the field, 
where there might otherwise be but little 
shelter. Two battalions came inarching 
iu behind inc. a baud of music playing 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



441) 



:it the head of each, and determined 
looking officers scolding and fuming at 
their somewhat undisciplined men. Here 
and there a stray member of the Com- 
mune, distinguishable by his red scarf, 
was promenading with his arms crossed 
behind his bark and his head bent for- 
ward as it' he were 
deciding upon the 
destinies of the 
capital. Little 
boys and gawky 
youths stood at a 
respectful dis- 




prison of the Conciergerie, I finally 
found the Instruction Commission in a 
loom at the bottom of a long corridor. 
Entering this room, I was greeted by a 
gentle, homely-clad hunchback, who an- 
nounced himself as the Citizen Magnet, 

and begged me to lie seated. 

Citizen Magnet was knee-deep in 
papers of all kinds. He was evidently 
delighted with his promotion to high 
office, and talked fluently about demands 
for succor from various educational in- 
stitutions, and the thought that he had 
to give them. " Since the separation of 
Church and State, citizen," he said, " and 



m 



fwMifii SIP, 

wmm 





^S9«? ■ 



tance watching with bated breath the 
movements of the great man. A throng 
of youths, aged from fifteen to eighteen, 
was hastening in and out of the gates. 
These boys had come to get authorized 
for various services under the Commune. 
Making my way up the grand staircase, 
and passing the private office of Citizen 
Assi, who had but recently emerged 
from his disciplinary confinement in the 



EPISODE OF THE COMMUNE. — GEN- 
ERAL LA CECILIA REVIEWING HIS 
TROOPS. 

the secularization of the schools, you 
can imagine that a vast affluence "of 
communications has come to the com- 
mission. You can judge of that by the 
envelopes strewing the floor." There 
was something impressive, if also a little 
amusing, in the manner in which the old 
Communal functionary took for granted 
the permanent separation of the Church 
from the State, and the complete suc- 
cess of all the other revolutionary meas- 
ures. He seemed convinced that his 
reign would last for his lifetime, al- 



450 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

though In' had only to go to the balcony < m the right, a* I entered the hall, I saw 

at the front of the great edifice and to the fiue fresco representing Lutetia seated 

listen to tin' harsh clacking of the mils- on a throne, with her bow and spear and 

ketry and the boom of the cannon to a gigantic shield, and with the world at 

convince him that the battle was not yet her feet. How had this daughter of the 

over. This deformed and amiable " miu- morn and the child of smiles and stin- 

istei-" bad been heard of before in shine fallen in the la^t few eventful 

France, lie had published a map of months! 

the country, of which the tracts dis- The troops undergoing review looked 

tinguished by the ignorance of their fairly well. Hands not so full as those 

inhabitants figured in Mack, and those of the Empire, but patriotic and blatant, 

of relative intelligence were denoted by marched to the front of the grand 

white. He took great pleasure in show- entrance with a huge tambour-major 

ing me these maps, and expressing his preceding them. When the customary 

indignation at the folly of preceding routine was finished, the Colonel drew 

governments in allowing ignorance so up, took off his hat, and shouted '■ ViVi 

long to disfigure fair France. He spoke /<< Ligne!" — ••Hurrah for the Regular 

hopefully ami sternly of his task, was Army!" — and I then perceived that 

anxious for information from abroad, there were many line soldiers in the 

and said he hoped soon to begin to ex- ranks. These were the men whom, after 

change reports with the great educa- the seven days' light, General De Gal- 

tional commissions of the leading foreign liffet so mercilessly slew. The review 

capitals. I could not bring him to any continuing, the same Colonel called 

expression of opinion as to the merits around him the numerous Captains and 

of his military colleagues, lie put aside electrified them with a short speech. lb' 

all my inquiries with dexterous and def- finished with the loud cry of '"Forward 

erential courtesy, and at last c lucted to light, and die for liberty, for work, for 

me to the office of the Citizen Yaillant. home, for La Commune!" and then, 

who was charged with the highest dll- shaking hands with each ollicer. he raised 

ties connected with public instruction. his sword. All the other swords flashed 

Citizen Yaillant was not to be found, in the air. an oath was taken, and the 

A grand review was in progress in front columns of men went wild with cheering, 

of the Hotel de Ville. Two field bat- Presently appeared members of the 

talions, some three thousand men, had Commune legislative body, which seemed 

been drawn up in line since my entrance, to have for that day suspended its 

ami now stretched across the Place de session for the express purpose of aiding 

Greve. From the long hall fronting on in the process of electrifying the t mops, 

this place, — hall in which the Executive One venerable member, with long, flowing 

Commission and the Bureau of Infor- hair, made a fiery address, rushed into 

mation of tin 1 Commune had established the ranks, shook corporals and rank and 

their antechambers, — [ could see the re- file by the hands, seemed likely to fall 

view in progress and hear the crash of upon their necks and weep, had lie not 

the drums. That which seemed an echo been pressed for time. The burden of 

in the distance was in reality the dull every subject was sacrifice of self for 

music of the Versailles batteries playing the great objects of freedom and the 

vigorously against the Porte Maillot, legal autonomy of Paris. At last the 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



4M 



battalions marched away from the barri- 
cades, and towards the Champs Klysees 
and the Porte Maillot. The soldiers, 
defiant with their glittering swords 
pressed tight against their right shoulders, 
seemed capable of courage and disci- 
pline. Among them were men of all 
sizes : one officer was six feet high, the 
next one four feet; hut the eves of each 
were alight with the same (ire. 

On the 25th of April two hundred 
and seventeen victims had been carried 
out of the avenue leading to the gate of 
Les Ternes, and every day brought fresh 
slaughter. An armistice had been ap- 
pointed, then postponed, because the 
Commune had not succeeded in deciding 
upon its future war-measures, and the 
Versailles government had not a fresh 
number of troops to [nit to the front. 
Hundreds of thousands of men and 
women had gone out to the gates pre- 
pared for a pilgrimage of curiosity to 
Neuilly during the cessation of hostili- 
ties, and now, turned back, they were 
muttering their discontent, and inspecting 
the great groups of statuary on the 
side of the Are de Triomphe towards 
Neuilly, where shells had made great 
indentations and scratches. In the mid- 
dleof the grand group representing a war- 
rior defending his fireside was the scar 
of a shell, which had struck deeply in 
and nearly severed the head of the re- 
cumbent child from its body. Down at 
the gate thousands of wagons crammed 
with the furniture which had escaped 
bombardment choked the entrance. Hag- 
gard women and half-starved children 
carrying boxes on their backs wandered 
aimlessly about. At last an armistice 
was suddenly decided upon, and we all 
went out as far as it was possible to go, 
anxious to get some idea of the progress 
being made by our besiegers, and so to 
judge of the probable length of the 



siege. I went out by the Porte Bineau, 

and was soon in the wilderness of semi- 
ruined streets, through which I at last 
came into the town of Neuilly, whence 
1 could look back to the Maillot gate, and 
see the flames slowly rising from a burn- 
ing house, out of the cellars of which 
had just come a Dumber of aged old 
women who had been lying concealed 
so long that they could scarcely see in 
the daylight, and tumbled over the 
smallest objects, trembling at the least 
noise. 

A1 Xeuilly the tales of misery and 
destruction were quite thrilling. At one 
house the mistress had been rendered 
insane by the horrors of the bombard- 
ment, and was so violent that she was 
Confined in the cellar for ten days, and 
no one dared to approach her except 
occasionally to throw her food. In the 
adjoining house a woman had died on 
the fourth day of the light, and it was 
not until the tenth that the little funeral 
procession could pick its way among the 
skirmishes to the cemetery. Between 
two houses we sew half-a-dozen artillery 
horses in the last stage of putrefaction ; 
and as we came back there passed us in 
a cab all that was mortal of a man who 
had died in a cellar for lack of food two 
or three days before. In a house on the 
Avenue du Roule a horrible spectacle 
presented itself. There had been a fierce 
combat there a lew days before, ami four 
National Guards lay dead in a confused 
heap, their hands tightly clinched, and 
their faces blackened. One had lost both 
legs, and another an arm. The court- 
yard of the house was so strewn with 
ruins of the Ceilings that I could not 
find any mark of the entrance of a shell. 
A woman in the throng of visitors 
found acollarof pearls in a porch, where 
a dead man was lying with his musket 
still loaded and his eves turned towards 



\:>j 



EUROPE 1\ STORM AX/) CAI. V. 



the window, whence doubtless came the 
shut that killed him. 

The Communist leaders, in communi- 
cating details of the fighting, said that 
tlic troops of the line did not fighl 
furiously, but that the genrlnrmes and 
the old [mperial police of Paris, who 
were embodied in the Versailles army, 
went into their deadly work with an in- 
terest which was not feigned, and usually 
gave no quarter. 

Arriving at the lines of our besiegers, 
1 found the regular uniforms of the 
French army, but very little of tradi- 
tional French courtesy or grace. Those 
of us who approached tin' lines narrowly 
escaped arrest and confinement. A bar- 
ricade half-way up the avenue was flanked 
with dozens of cannon, and the artillery- 
men were all at their post. Two women 
arrived at the line and tried to pass; 

their house, from which they hud tied at 
the beginning of the fight, was only a 
short distance away. The sentinel re- 
fused passage. They discussed, and he 
expostulated; -whereupon an officer 
stepped forward, took" the gun from the 
sentinel's hands, forced the women back 
at the point of the bayonet, and said, 
" That is the way you must talk to 
them." Once an officer ordered a crowd 
of Parisians to move farther away or 
they would receive a fusillade. The 
howls of indignation at this statement 
were quite frantic, and the soldiers 
of the line, although amply protected 
by the guns of theirown batteries, looked 
uneasy. 

One touching episode occurred during 
this day at Neuilly. Among the fragrant 
blossoms of the lilac bushes were the 
humble roofs of the Institution of the 
Holy Cross and the Hospital of Our Lady 
of the Seven Sorrows. Here, for fifteen 
days, in the back cellars, weak and dying 
children had been confined, while the 



shells rent, open the upper stories. The 
good Sisters of Charity came out, now that 
this armistice permitted, and. blinking 
in the unaccustomed light, hastened to re- 
more the invalids to a safer place. Idiotic 
and scrofulous infants, blind and in- 
firm dwarfs, palsied and half-frenzied 
wretches of uncertain age, were placed 
in the vast furniture vans from Paris, 
and jolted away to the capital. More 
than one beclouded intellect, dimmed 
by suffering, imagined some dire mis- 
fortune in this removal, and protested 
energetically against it. .lust as the 
wagons were about to depart a sister 
came running breathlessly to announce 
that the aged director of the hospital 
would not leave his post. He was eighty- 
four years old, and faintly murmured in 
his cracked tones that he would die in the 
house that he had founded. lint the old 
man. in spite of his devotion to duty, 
was carried away. Many of the Sisters 
of Charity objected to entering the capi- 
tal, because they did not wish to coun- 
tenance the Communal movement, which 
had dared to offend Holy Church. 

The batteries of the Versailles troops 
were only two hundred yards from those 
of the Commune, and here the One 
Hundred and Fifteenth and Forty-fifth 
line regiments were stationed. The 
armistice was announced to finish at 
five o'clock, and it was half-past four 
before we had closed our tour of inspec- 
tion, ami we were obliged to spur our 
horses merrily to regain the gates. The 
long, low, dark-gray walls of Paris, sur- 
rounded by their deep ditches, and the 
high-standing gate-ways, with their diffi- 
cult approaches, looked very impressive, 
and seemed almost impregnable. On 
the way back we noticed a thoroughly 
Gallic scene. — a young man in the uni- 
form of the National Guard was playing 
•■Mmirir pour In Patrie " upon a piano, 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. t.Vl 

which the frightened owner had just discharges from their batteries to frighten 

moved into the street. Around the mu- away the crowds. The singers instantly 

sician stood a chorus of soldiers, singing dispersed, and the owner of the piano 

with stentorian voices the lugubrious re- had it packed on the backs of some stout 

frain. Just then began a panic, the men, and so it passed through the Porte 

Versailles troops probably Ihine. blank Maillot. 



l-'l EUROPE W STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTHi: F< >RTY-EIGHT. 

Domhrowski in (lie Saddle. — The? Foreign Chiefs of the Commune. -Genera] Cluseret. IIh Arrest.— 
Dclescltizc. -A Despairing Revolutionist. Rosscl. Bcrgcret. The Declamatory Period. — The 

Coinhat at the Southern Forts. — A Hot Corner inn In' Shell Fire. -The Women of the < 'omraune. 

~\\Tril Dombrowski in the saddle cause of Panslavism, and broke faith 
* V and invested with the authority with many of his old Polish friends. 
of commander of the armies of the In 1870 he lav in prison for a long 
Commune of Paris, the forward move- time in Paris, under the accusation of 
inenl of the Versailles forces became forging Russian bank-notes, but he was 
more and inure difficult. Dombrowski acquitted of this charge, which was 
was one of the picturesque figures of probably the work of his political ene- 
Ihe great insurrection, and risked his mies. During the Prussian siege he 
life freely in the cause for which he did good work for the French, and 
professed supreme devotion. He was after the capitulation he drifted to- 
a young Polish adventurer, who had wards the Commune, and finally became 
been admitted in 1848 to the Cadet a member of the famous Central Corn- 
Corps in St. Petersburg, and had siinl- mittec. From that dignity to the posi- 
ied at the school of the Russian ecu- tion of military commander of Paris 
era] stat't. lie had seen smile service it was but a step for a bold and am- 
in the Caucasus, and had been deco- bitious man like Dombrowski. He had 
rated by the Russian governmenl for his head -quarters in the Place Veu- 
his services there. But while he was dOine, where he was always surrounded 
in garrison at Warsaw he became in- by a rather heterogeneous staff of 
volved in a conspiracy which preceded young and enthusiastic men, main of 
the insurrection of I SC3. He was whom 1 am convinced had absolutely 
suspected, denounced, arrested, and no sympathy with the socialistic wine 
imprisoned for a year, and lay in the of the Commune, but who were filled 
citadel as a prisoner while the wave with the faith that Paris, by winning 
of insurrection swept all around him. back her municipal liberties, would save 
lie was sentenced lii death, but his the Republic, and would raise up huu- 
sentence was commuted li> exile to dreds of thousands of allies throughout 
Siberia. Henceforward his story was the country. To blame those generous 
as romantic as that of a hero of melo- and ardent men who willingly laid down 
drama. ( >n the way to Siberia he their lives for the sake of principles 
escaped, returned boldly to St. Peters- which they believed thoroughly hon- 
burg, where he was concealed for a orable and patriotic, would be unwise 
time; then went to Switzerland, Ger- and unfair. There was mine than one 
manv, and China, arriving in Paris in who knew how to live through those 
l!S()5. lie was next heard of in the nine weeks of the siege like a soldier 
Vustru Prussian war, espoused the and a gentleman, never condescending 



El'ROPK IN STORM AND CALM. 



455 



to any of the excesses in which the 
grosser spirits of the ( 'ommune indulged ; 
and those were the men who perished 
on the barricades, or in close action 
during the seven days' fight, disdaining 
subterfuges and disguises by which they 
might have saved their lives. 

Dombrowski replaced Bergeret, who 
had been much ridiculed for his vanity 
and assumption, and who, on the whole, 
was a clever and conscientious worker 
in the cause which he thought right. 
His fatal mistake was made in the dis- 
astrous expedition against Versailles, 
where he got his men under the fire of 
Fort Valerien. During the fourteen days 
in which he was General-in-chief, he 
probably made more mistakes than any 
military commander of modern times; 
but of his zeal and his capacity as an 
executive officer, although he was of no 
use as a General, there was little doubt. 
When General Cluseret sent him to 
prison because he had refused to obey 
there was a great roar among the fol 
lowers of Bergeret; and he himself wrote 
on the walls of his cell this prophecy, 
founded on his satiric insight into the 
nature of the half-educated and sus- 
picious master with whom the Communal 
chiefs were dealing: "Cluseret, I am 
waiting for you here." lie did not have 
long to wait, not more than a fortnight; 
for the 22d of April saw him at liberty, 
and Cluseret was soon in his place. The 
disgrace of Cluseret was decided upon 
the moment that the extremists of the 
Commune discovered his disapproval of 
their illiberal and oppressive measures. 
He even said of his friends, "'They 
may shoot me, but they cannot make me 
work against my conscience." At the 
time that Fort Is^y was announced as 
likely to fall into the hands of the Ver- 
sailles troops, General Cluseret had 
already been undermined on the pretext 



that he had compromised the situation 
by issuing decrees, which, although good 
in themselves, could not be carried out, 
and which engendered complaints from 
the officers of nearly fifty battalions. 
One officer, with whom I was personally 
acquainted, carried to Hie Executive Com- 
mittee of the ('ommune documents from 
forty-live battalions, delaying the Clu- 
seret /•';/'/»'', and demanding that the 
exacting General be displaced. The 
Communal journals did not hesitate to 
accuse him of neglect and incapacity; 
but most of the officers contented them- 
selves with criticising him as too ambi- 
tious. 

There was a story current in the capi- 
tal, shortly after his arrest, that when 
the Communists were about to abandon 
the nearly ruined fort of Issy, and all 
had left save the one man who was to 
have tired the fuse which would have 
sprung a mine, Cluseret, with two hun- 
dred men, reoccupied the ramparts, and 
insisted on holding the position. It is 
certain that he never had any intention 
of delivering up the fort, as he appreci- 
ated how disastrous such a course would 
have Been. I asked several officers who 
were directly concerned in his removal 
if there was any accusation of dishonesty 
against him. and received emphatically 
negative answers. Among the members 
of the Commune, however, there were 
those who said that he had offered to 
give up Paris for the sum of 8,000,000 
francs. These gossiping gentlemen 
bad nothing on which to found these 
scandals except the great contempt 
which Cluseret usually manifested for 
them, and which, perhaps, led them to 
fancy that he was an enemy who had 
managed to get a position in their midst. 
He never sat with the members of the 
Commune al the Hotel de Ville. When 
the two members of the Communal 



45(3 EUROPE IN STORM AND PALM. 

Committee came to announce the dis- in the Protestant religion, was a pure- 
satisfaction with him, and to hint at his minded, austere, and vigorous youno - offl- 
deposition, he answered quietly that he cer, who would have been certain, had 
had for some time expected it. he not stepped aside into the thorny 

Delescluze, who was the delegate for war paths of insurrection, of winning high 
of the ephemeral Commune, was a man honors, possibly a marshal's staff, in the 
of liner mould and of larger mind than French service, lie was a Keen writer 
most of his colleagues. Journalist, pub- already, a brilliant strategist, and at- 
licist. and conspirator under the Empire; tracted to himself no little notice in 1869, 
conspirator again after the declaration when the last volume of the correspond- 
of the Republic, in 1870 ; imprisoned for ence of Napoleon I. was printed, by 
the attempted insurrection of the 1st of demonstrating in a clever article, pub- 
October, — he was already a notable figure lished in the Temjts, that the books on 
at the beginning of the Communal period, strategy attributed to Napoleon werenot 
Like Cluseret and Rossel, — the unfortu- and could not possibly have been written 
nate young soldier who preceded him in by him. At Met/., during the siege, 
the direction of the Commune's military Rossel was the determined enemy of Ba- 
affairs, — Delescluze had a profound con- zaine, whom he believed a traitor; and 
tempt for the drunken helots who aired his hostility was so vigorous that he was 
their socialistic theories on every possi- imprisoned in one of the forts, lint he 
ble occasion. While he was in favor of escaped before the capitulation and, dis- 
extremes, in the conduct of the conflict, guised as a peasant, traversed the Ger- 
he was perpetually afraid, lest by ex- man lines, and got to Belgium; then, 
cesses tin.' Commune should alienate after a brief visit to his mother, in Lon- 
from itself what little sympathy Europe don. hastened to Tours to place himself 
still felt for it; ami it is reported that at the disposal of the Government of 
when he heard of the execution of the National Defense. Gambetta knew and 
Archbishop and the other hostages, his appreciated Rossel, who was an apostle 
face became quite livid, a great sob of of the doctrine that to treat for peace 
emotion rose in his throat, and he sank with the Germans was national dishonor, 
down in his seat, saying, " What a war ! He went straight into the ranks of 
But we also will show that we know how the Commune as soon as the insurrec- 

to die." He was as g 1 as his word, tiou broke out. and wrote a plain letter 

and died with a composure and bravery to the Minister of War in which he said 

worthy of an ancient stoic. that he placed himself without hcsita- 

The appointment of Rossel as the tion in the ranks of those who had not 

successor of Cluseret was a kind of con- signed peace, and who did not count 

cession to Cluseret's views as to rigid among them Generals culpable of capitu- 

discipline. The new delegate for war lation. lie was Cluseret's chief of staff 
was but twenty-seven years of age. and for some time, and presided at the court- 
had graduated from the School of Appli- martial where citizens who refused to 
cation of Metz onlv three or four years do military duty for the Commune were 
previously, coming out of that school judged with great severity. Like the 

with the grade of lieutenant. Rossel, others before him he was destined to 

son of a French soldier of merit, and an waste his energy and to spend his cour- 

English mother, who had brought him up age against the incurable negligence. 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



i:>7 



lack of discipline, and jealousies which 
honey-combed the insurrectionary forces ; 
and after having vainly endeavored to 
get together twelve or fifteen thousand 
men to lift the siege which the Versaillais 
had laid to Fort Issy, he gave up his 
office, ironically demanding at the close 
of his resignation the honor of a cell at 
Mazas. He was taken at his word, and 
a committee of public safety sent a 
guard to arrest him. But he succeeded 
in escaping from the custody of the 
ferocious committee and enticed his guar- 
dian to accompany him ; and it was not 
until the close of the seven days' light 
that he was found by the government 
troops and taken with the rest of the mob 
to Versailles. No fairer and more prom- 
ising young life was sacrificed at the 
posts of execution on the bloody field 
of Satory than that of Eossel. His 
broken career has a pathetic interest for 
all who admire even the first indications 
of military genius. Rossel fell into 
the trap which was fatal to so many 
noble and gifted men. lie believed that 
the Communal effort was practicable, 
that it was honest, and that there was 
really need for combating the govern- 
ment which had installed itself at Ver- 
sailles, and which, as he and so many 
others thought, would reestablish a Mon- 
archy rather than declare a Republic. 

Bergeret, Cluseret, Rossel, Deles- 
cluze, Dombrowski and his Poles, La 
Cecilia, and a few showy officers, — 
these were the men who were expected 
by the incompetent and intolerant "Cen- 
tral Committee " of the Commune to or- 
ganize, with the rebellious National 
Guard, the permanent defense of Paris 
against a compact ami angry army as- 
sembled at Versailles under the com- 
mand of Marshal MacMahon, with such 
men as Ladmirault, De Cissey, La 
Cretelle, Vinov, Douay, and Clinchaut. 



It is wonderful, when one looks hack 
upon the resistance of the Commune, 
and thi' harum-scarum fashion in 
which it was conducted, despite the in- 
disputable talent occasionally shown in 
it, that it should have endured so long 
as it did. In the train of Dombrowski 
was a group of four young men named 
Okolowicz, horn in France, of Polish 
parents, and all energetic and capable 
officers. 

During the last half of April the 
Commune was in its declamatory period. 
It issued its famous declaration t<> the 
French people, in which it claimed that 
the Commune had the right to form and 
determine the aspirations and the voice 
of the populations of Paris ; that at this 
time, as on so many previous occasions. 
Paris was toiling and suffering lor the 
whole of France, and preparing, by her 
combats and sacrifices, the intellectual, 
moral, administrative, and economical 
regeneration of the nation. The Com- 
munists denied that Paris was seeking 
the destruction of French unity, but that 
it wanted political unity, the voluntary 
association of all, local initiative, the 
free and spontaneous cooperation of all 
individual energies with the common 
object of the well-being, liberty, and 
security of all. The Communal Revo- 
lution inaugurated a new era in polities; 
was the end of the old official ami cleri- 
cal world, of military supremacy and 
bureaucracy, of jobbing in monopolies 
and privileges, to which the proletariat 
oweil its slavery and the country its mis- 
fortunes. " As for ourselves, citizens 
of Paris," the proclamation concluded, 
•■ we have a mission to accomplish, a 
modern revolution, the greatest ami most 
fruitful of all which have illuminated 
history." 

To this Versailles replied with a cry 
of scorn and indignation, and with the 



FYS 



evrovk i\ srn/f.v \\/> cm,m. 



stern announcement that no parley could 
lie liehl with rebels and deserters. •■ The 
movement which has broken forth in 
Paris," said the Versailles proclamation, 
•• has in it no coherent idea. It is horn 
of a sterile hatred against social order. 
It has the fury of destruction for the 
sake of destruction, a certain savage 
spirit, the gratification of a desire to 
live without restraint and without law. 
The word • Commune ' signifies noth- 
ing else. It is only the expression of 
ill-regulated instincts, refractory pas- 
sions, which fall upon the secular com- 
munity of France as upon an obstacle 
to their accomplishment." 

There is as much exaggeration in the 
statement of Versailles as iu the state- 
ment of Paris. It is, perhaps, the exact 
truth to say that the Commune arose out 
of a mutual misunderstanding. That 
the men who originally rallied to the 
movement were actuated by base motives 
is untrue. The Commune began as an 
honorable although a misguided protest 
against kingship, anil against the usurpa- 
tion of authority over the city by the State. 
It gravitated speedily to the condition 
of a vast and dangerous riot, nowhere 
directed or controlled by a master hand. 
Then crept in the serpent of socialism, 
the demons of drunkenness, Inst, and 
revenge; and all the line theories ami 
noble aims of the original protesters, 
the extremists, who, like Delescluze 
and Milliere and Flourens, had been 
watching for more than a year for an 
occasion to take power into their own 
hands, were swept away in the black 
smoke of the flames which binned the 
Tuileries and the Hotel de Ville. 

With the first days of May the combat 
at the southern forts had been daily in- 
creasing in vigor. The diapason of the 
Willis sometimes thrilled the whole city. 
With early May had come the warm, 



sweet south wind, more suggestive of 
llyeres and Genoa than of northern 
Paris ; but on this wind each morning 

WeIC boi'lie tile echoes of tile booming 

cannon. From Trocadei'O, or from the 
Point i hi Join', on the circular railway, we 
could see tierce combats engaged in be- 
tween the three forts standing out in 
bold relief, and the Versailles batteries 
so high above them that the gunners had 
little trouble iii dropping their shells into 
the fo! tilications. 

Those of the National Guards who 
kept up their discipline seemed inclined 
to sell their lives dearly. They had 
twice besieged Fort Issy and inflicted 
heavy losses on the Versailles troops. 
Every step, every successive line of 
trenches, might be said to have been 
traced in blood. iland-to-liand combats 
were frequent. They grew out of the 
reconnaissances which sergeants of com- 
panies on either side were constantly 
making, and which often brought on a 
general action. Both armies had trenches 
in front of Issy. positions which were 
very hazardous. Now and then the Fed- 
erals, as the Communists were always 
called, would sally forth, and at great 
loss attempt to dislodge the Versailles 
troops, amply covered by their batteries. 
On one occasion the National Guards, 
unable to remain quiet under the terrible 
rain of shells from the batteries sur- 
rounding Issy, sallied out towards the 
chdtean of the same name, and, assisted 
bv a feeble tire from the battered for- 
tress, chased, at the pointof the bayonet, 
the Thirty-fifth ami Forty-second line 
regiments, hut left the ground strewn 
with their dead. Put when the fire from 
the fort failed, the line regiments re- 
turned to the charge, and in the mNie 

which ensued took three hundred of the 
National Guards prisoners, and killed 
most of them in the excitement of the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



4. V.I 



prise. Among those taken many were making about three hundred prisoners, 

clad in the uniform of the regular army, A Versailles paper about this time an- 

and those gentlemen passed out of life nounced that it was probable thai the 

at the end of a Versailles gun-barrel. garrison of the Fort Issy would be ac- 

On this same day the Clamart rail- corded no quarter when it fell into the 

way station — an important position for hands of the regular troops. 

the besiegers of Issy While this combat was in progress at 




— was carried by as- 
sault by the Ver- 
saillais. This was 



Fort Issy, I was visiting the right wing 
of the insurgents' line of defense, where 
some of the heaviest fighting took place 
for a fortnight after the taking of 
Asniercs by the Versaillais. A storm of 
shot and shell was hurled at them from 
Levallois, a little town only a short dis- 
tance from the walls of Paris. 
In Levallois the commandant 
of this section had his head- 



I'EKItACE OF MKl'DON urc'U'IKI) BY VERSAILLES TROOPS. 



early in the morning, before sunrise, ami quarters : and here. also, was the fien- 
was intended for a surprise ; but the eral Okolowicz, one of the brothers 
commander found the insurrectionists as mentioned elsewhere. At this head- 
vigilant as himself. The Twenty-second quarters 1 found an aide-decamp of 
battalion of Chassears-d,-pied, although General Dombrowski, who had been 
subjected to great loss, drove out the detailed to command at this end of the 
National Guards, inflicting on them a line, lie was a fair type of many of the 
loss of two hundred and sixty, and defenders in the service of the Commune, 



4(10 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

a handsome, athletic Pole, once merchant himself to his map, found oul where said 

of artificial flowers on the boulevard, but house was, and gave the gunners instruc- 

since the riots of L870 interested in tions to burn it. The Communists nad 

politics. He liad fled some years before been using peti'oleum bombs for some 

from Russia, where he had been c i- time, but had not found them very suc- 

pelled to serve in the army, had fought cessful. They claimed that the Versailles 

eighteen months in the Polish insurrec- batteries had, by means of these I bs, 

tion, and had spent two years in an set numerous houses near the Tones 
Austrian prison as a convict, with a ball gate of Paris on lire. But the most in- 
and chain attached to one of his legs, telligeut of the staff-officers assured me 
He was a brave soldier and a rapid and that in experimenting on a small house 
decisive thinker. The Commandant of across the river, he observed thai it was 
the place looked more like a stalwart only after the nineteenth shell had been 
backwoodsman from Manitoba than like thrown that the conflagration was 
a. Frenchman. He was six feel two, started. All the officers at this point 
wore superb florid mustaches and were badly mounted, and few were 
beard, and had a hearty, unaffected decently equipped. Their complete faith 
manner which was quite winning. The in their final success was quite pathetic. 
head-quarters was a .small stone house. They all estimated the Versailles forces 
quite within the lire-line, so that, shells a.s much smaller than their own. The 
came constantly screaming above it. or commandant de place at this point told 
falling with ominous crash close beside me he thought the safety of the ('om- 
it. Here the Commandant had with him inline depended on the reorganization of 
his wife and child, — the wife a noble- the National Guard, 
looking woman, who sat calmly when the Among the most impressive examples 
shriek of the shells was plainly heard, of devotion which I saw at Levallois 
and who, perhaps, had perfect faith in was that of a young peasant woman of 
her husband's jesting assertion that the twenty-two or twenty-three, who had 
house was iron-clad. Every few mo- been night and day attending to the 
ments the door of this house was swung wounded on the river lineal imminent 
open by some soldier or under-officer, risk of her own life. As she came in to 
who came to report or complain. Every head-quarters all the officers rose and 
half-hour a battalion arrived in front "I' greeted her with stalely courtesy. She 
the house, coming cheerily up from ils was faint with hunger and exposure, 
post at some other point on the line, the and, when she sat down beside the Com- 
ineii singing the Marseillaise and other inandant's wife, grew dizzy and turned 
revolutionary songs. quite pale. Sin 1 was well cared for. 
The Commandant invited me to break- ami the commandant himself cooked her 
fast, and just as we were trying for the breakfast. For two weeks, the officer 
fourth or fifth time to sit down to table, said, she had found time to eat only one 
two gigantic artillery-men, grimy with meal a day: and it is only when she is 
powder and smoke, burst into the room, starved out, said one. that she comes 
" Commandant," said the grimier of the up to head-quarters. She gently dis- 
two, '■ we see men on the top of a house claimed all honor for her fidelity. " I 
just across the river, and they are spy- am not the only one willing to help," 
inn us out." The commandant betook she said. ••There are fifty of us in 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



161 



all, and we don't mind a little rough- cry raised by the Communists thai they 
ing it." had been fired on by the citizens in 

From this time forward the days wore Paris. I heard one artillery-man sa\ so 
('nil of alarms. On the Sunday evening to his officer, who at once gave orders to 
after my visit to Levallois the spectacle destroy any house whence a shot should 
of the bombardment was grand beyond come. 

description. The tire way from the The Commune was not, happy in its 
batteries at Point dn Jour could he external relations, which were of course 
seen, — a fire line flashing death and 
destruction at the southern forts and 
ai the gate of the Ternes. The bombs 
fell like hail; one conflagration Iitup the 
whole section of Paris behind the Tri- 
umphal Arch, and so 
increased in intensity 
that the spectators 
al a distance fancied 
the regular troops 
had entered and were 
firing the deserted 
quarters. The Com- 
munist soldiers ran 
howling through the 
streets, anxious to 
report themselves, 
almost, despite or- 
ders, tit the scene of 
the struggle. One 
brave 1 remember 
distinctly- He had 
partaken somewhat 
copiously of the juice 
of the grape, and as 
he made his way 
through the dense 
crowds would stop 

from time to time to invoke an imagi- mainly with the Prussians, and in which 
nary person, whom he fancied was ex- M. Pascal Grousset, quondam journal- 
postulating against his departure for the ist, played a prominent part. Each 
scene of battle. " But it is my duty to time a communication was made to the 
go," he would cry; and at last he Prussian commander by an individual 
tumbled quite helpless into a ditch by with a red scarf over his shoulder, the 
the curb, and, supinely heroic, listened individual was severely snubbed. The 
with drunken gravity to the cannonading. Commune had a singular confidence in 
One formidable feature of this alarm the forbearance of the Germans, and 
on Sunday night in question was the from the first prophesied that they 




COMMUNIST FUNERAL AT NIGHT. 



462 EUROrE IN STORM AND CALM. 

would not attempt to assist the array af yield their positions. As to surrender, 

Versailles even were Thiers driven to they laughed such an idea to scorn, 

extremes. •• What !" said a French officer, who was 

In those days it became evident thai one of Dombrowski's staff", when I asked 

an attempt would be made at a great him if surrender might uot be the end. 

culminating catastrophe should the Com- "Surrender? Never! 1 am sentenced 

mune lose its battles and either the to death twice. I can die only once. 

troops of the government or of Germany and I will sacrifice all the lives neces- 

attempt to enter the city. All the sary to preserve my own and to make 

houses in the vicinity of the barricades the movement succeed. This uniform," 

of defense inside the capital had their and he pointed to the dress of a line 

windows pasted over with the long slips of officer, which he still wore, — " this uni- 

paper used to keep the glass from break- form condemns me to death, and I will 

ing when a great explosion is expected, not be caught, — and I will not run away 

It was reported that certain sewers hail either." 

powder trains lain in them, and the Saying this, he tossed off a glass of 

leaders of the Commune had sworn to champagne, in which he toasted the suc- 

hlou these sewers up rather than to cess of the Commune. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



463 



CII APTER F< )RTY-NINE. 



The Commune Suppresses the Conservative Journals. — Insincere Professions til' Liberalism. — The Pen 
Duchene. — The Unroofing of M. Thiers's House. — The Communistic Ideal of Society. — 
Invasion of the Convents. - Reminiscences of Auber the < "omposer. His Death. —The Fall of the 
Vcnd&mc Column. — The Communists Rejoice over the Wreck of Imperial Splendor. — Measures 
against Social Vices. 



T 



HE world lost confidence in the lib- 
eral professions of the Commune. 
As soon as the two mad measures of 
suppression of all the conservative 
journals in Paris and the absolute nega- 
tion of the liberty of conscience were 
enforced, the Communists undertook- to 
invest with a certain justice even the 
most illiberal of their decrees, and in 
suppressing half-a-dozen leading news- 
papers towards the middle of April, it 
announced that this was done because it 
was impossible to tolerate in besieged 
Paris journals which openly advocated 
civil war and which gave military infor- 
mation to the enemy, as well as propa- 
gated calumny against the defenders of 
the Republic. There is an amusing per- 
version of the truth in this statement, 
and a coolness in the remarks about 
civil war which has rarely been equalled 
in degree. That the Communists thought 
they were defenders of the Republic may 
be true, but that they were ignorant that 
they themselves had provoked the civil 
war which they appeared to deplore, 
cannot be credited. 

With the suspension of all the con- 
servative journals with the exception of 
the Siicle and the Vertti, the sensational 
journals had full scope for their pe- 
culiar verbosity. Paris Free and the 
Commune were the two noteworthy 
papers which were most sought for by 
the adherents of the Commune. The 



former paper devoted a great part of its 
space to printing lists of the political 
spies who had been employed under the 
second Empire; audit is not very flat- 
tering to the French character to note 
that great numbers of denunciations 
appeared in these papers, and were evi- 
dently forwarded to the editor in the 
hope that under the exceptional circum- 
stances acts of private vengeance might 
lie consummated. The printing of the 
alphabetical list of the spies was a tine 
stroke of the vindictive Communists. 
Naturally, the chief of the political 
police under the Empire had kept every 
letter of application for the degrading 
positions ; and these letters, now brought 
to light, condemned to obloquy many a 
man and woman who had before been 
counted respectable. The applicants 
were usually people in reduced circum- 
stances, ladies and gentlemen who had 
no resources and few hopes of any : 
and in most cases persons whose ante- 
cedents were not entirely satisfactory. 
The journal called the Commune en- 
lightened us with the history of the 
Black Cabinet in the Post Office, where 
the Imperial spies used to keep them- 
selves informed by opening private cor- 
respondence of all communications be- 
tween important persons, when they 
thought it necessary. The Communal 
government also go tout, at great expense. 
all the correspondence of the government 



Id4 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

of the •• Fourth of September," as it was M. Rochefort's paper seemed to have 
called ; and the weekly instalments, sold dropped entirely out of notice. The dis- 
for a sou cadi, had an enormous circula- gusting little Fire Duchene, filled with 
linn. This, with the publication of the filthy and unquotable comments on the 
correspondence of the Imperial family, political situation, had a circulation of 
gave those of the Communists who had ninety thousand copies daily. This jour- 
any leisure plenty of reading. The nal was entirely written by one man, who 
Extufvtte was the title of a newspaper pocketedabout3,000franesof clear profit 
which hail an immense circulation among daily. None of the Parisian journals 
the lower classes. It was a half-sheet, were allowed by the Communists to pass 
retailed fur a smi, with spaces between the fortifications; persons carrying them 
its spicy paragraphs tilled with readily were arrested, and were likely to be thrust 
executed caricatures of the men of the into a filthy jail, where they might have, 
moment. The only comic journal which as in the old Revolution, been confounded 
flourished under the Commune was with the mass of the condemned and been 
the Grelot, which visited upon both sent off to be shot. The official journal, 
contending parties its satiric criticism, which the Commune thought it necessary 
[none of the numbers M. Thiers, attired to have in imitation of previous govern- 
as an old lady, was furiously apostro- incuts, contained nothing remarkable 
phizing a tiny child labelled Paris, save the Communal decrees, devoted to 

Maman Thiers: "What in the nan f upsetting everything that existed, and a 

Heaven do y<>u want?" Little Paris: most singular feuilleton, in which a North 

11 I want the moon." And Little Paris American Indian did a vast amount of 

was depicted as regarding the reflection scalping, and declaimed in the fashion 

of the moon in a pail of water. of the Revolutionary orators of the time 

This was looked on as a Versailles of Danton and Robespierre. 
view of the situation ; and the Column- Communist papers each had their an- 
nists doubtless notified the editor of the ecdote of Dombrowski's bravery. One 
Grclot that he would be under surveil- day, while making his way towards Issy, 
lance. In another caricature in the same we were told, and being accompanied 
journal Citizen Courbet, the celebrated bv only fourteen men, he suddenly heard 
painter, was represented as holding a the Qui vive of a Versailles sentinel. 
levee, at which all the bronze statues of His men turned pale with fright, and so 
l'aris were in attendance, having come faltered that they were all taken pris- 
down from their respective pedestals to oners. But Dombrowski boldly ad- 
beg him to save them. Courbet was also vanced, and said. "Versailles;" ami 
depicted as having already taken mi- when required to give the countersign 
der his protection the VendOme column, he rushed upon the sentinel, made him a 
Another comic journal of lesser impor- prisoner, dealing him a violent blow over 
tance depicted M. Thiers as an owl sitting his head with his own gun, and brought 
quietly on a tree labelled ■■ Restoration." him away before the little band of cJias- 
A flood of light from the rising sun of seurs, lying near at hand, discovered 
the Commune was poured upon the owl's that they might have captured the leader 

face, and France, a rosy young w an, of the Communists' military forces. The 

was looking at the bird and making scorn- truth was that Dombrowski had been 

fill remarks. spared by shot and shell in places where 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



465 



it seemed that no living man could con- 
tinue to exist. His soldiers imagined 
him possessed of a charmed life. All 
the Polish officers depended much upon 
the French love of entrain for success. 
General Okolowicz never went into a 
dangerous place without crying to his 
men, •• Who loves me follows me ; " and 
wherever his voice was heard there were 
men to respond to his call. 

The unroofing of M. Thiers' s mansion 
in the Place St. Georges, in obedience 
to the spiteful decree of the Commune, 
was one of the silliest episodes of the 
great insurrection. The slouching sol- 
diers who were engaged in it were half 
ashamed of the work, and one or two of 
them said so to those of us who went 
to witness the operation. The razing of 
the house to the ground was never com- 
pleted ; and M. Thiers probably con- 
sidered himself amply revenged upon 
Rochefort, — a chance remark by whom 
in the Marseillaise was the origin of this 
Communal measure, — when he saw the 
popular pamphleteer arrested at Meaux, 
dragged through the military prisons, 
and, after a hasty trial, sent off across 
the seas to the other end of the world. 

If it be true that the first impulse was 
given to the insurrection by the mys- 
terious International Society, it is not 
strange that one of the first blows struck 
by the triumphant faction was at the 
established Church. But, whatever in- 
telligence may have prevailed when the 
first measures were dictated, the suc- 
ceeding ones were characterized by noth- 
ing save a blind fury. Hundreds of 
thousands of the working people of the 
capital were, and still arc, rebellious 
against the authority of the Church ; and 
it is no exaggeration to say that scores 
of thousands utterly repel the doctrines 
of Catholicism and profess a kind of 
materialism which they would lie puzzled 



to define. They had a vague remem- 
brance of the persecution of the Church in 
the old Revolution, and the confiscation 
of the fat lands belonging to abbeys and 
monasteries. They recognized, with 
the unerring instinct of the people, that 
the Church was one of the strongest 
pillars of monarchy; and they directed 
against it all the energy of their hatred. 
They closed twenty-six of the principal 
churches of Paris within a fortnight, and 
put the seals of the Commune upon their 
doors. Some of these churches were 
reopened for the meetings of Commu- 
nistic clubs, as all popular assemblies 
were called. The priests who dared to 
protest were imprisoned, and the spolia- 
tion of some of the religious editiees 
was boldly undertaken. The academi- 
cian Maximo Ducamp, whose account of 
the Commune is not entirely to be relied 
upon, because ire represents the most 
violent and prejudiced section of the 
bourgeoisie, or middle class, nevertheless 
has a fine faculty for putting his linger 
upon the weak points of the Commune. 
lie says, in his criticisms on the attempts 
against liberty of conscience in the in- 
surrection: '-Those men who neither 
knew how to write out a passport or a 
simple order, without asking for advice, 
needed no counsel when it came to at- 
tacking the Church. There they had 
nothing to do but to overturn, and they 
excelled at this work. To close churches 
to worship, and to open them to the 
chibs, to despoil them, and to imprison 
priests, and to shoot them, — this was 
all very easy. It was a persecution 
which made its martyrs. It is impos- 
sible even to-day to imagine in the name 
of what liberty this was done, because 
among the Communists one could find 
trace of no philosophy whatsoever. They 
proclaimed themselves Materialists and 
Atheists, without understanding what 



466 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM 

those (wo terms meant. They had terialism. We may draw this conclusion 
neither doctrine nor theory. Like tamed from the fact that Robespierre, much ad- 
parrots, they said over and over again mired as a director of the guillotine by 
words the sense of which they knew noth- many members of the Commune, was at 
iug about. Their incoherence was such the same time blamed and despised, be- 
that they were in permanent contradic- cause he had, as they said, invented a 
tion to themselves, and did not know it. Supreme Being. The government would 
A moment before his death Theophile willingly, imitating Anacharsis Clootz, 
Fene wrote to liis sister: ' Let il be well have declared themselves the personal 
understood, — no religious ceremony. I enemies of Jesus Christ, whose reputa- 
die a Materialist, as I have lived.' Then tion Jules Yalles had declared was en- 
he added : • Place a crownof immortelles tirely overrated. Thus it is easy to see 
upon the tomb of our mother.' They that every violent measure against the 
were all like this. They repudiated the clergy was adopted without discussion at 
belief, but they preserved the emblem of the Hotel de Ville." 

it. They called themselves partisans The Communists carried their denial 

of equality, liberty, and fraternity. This of the liberty of conscience so far that 

was their device. They inscribed it as they took pains to prevent the children 

the protocol of their official acts, on from attending church, and would not 

their flags, on the walls. even let the burial-sen ice be read over 

" They did not understand that it was the dead. One day in April the old 
by Christianity alone that the peoples be- church in the line St. Jacques was in- 
came free and the masters of their own vaded by the Federals. Sentinels were 
destiny. To suppress future life, and the stationed at the doors; the few kneeling 
belief in the reward promised to courage, worshippers were informed that they 
sacrifice, and virtue, is to bring man must arise ami depart, or it would be 
to a condition in which he takes no the worse for them. The priests in the 
heed for his soul, and seek-- hen- below sacristy were visited by two of the dele- 
only immediate enjoyment. If we add gates of the Commune, who said they 
to this the theory of Darwin, of which hail come to make a requisition. Just 
the Communists hail retained only the at that time a funeral procession arrived 
dangerous part, we arrive fatally at the and stopped in front of the church. The 
struggle for existence, which is a perma- mourners and friends entered to attend 
neiit insurrection, and at the theory of the mass which had been appointed for 
selection, which leads straight to des- that hour. The sentinels informed them 
potism. that they could not pass, and, as they 

"The Commune, perhaps without know- found this very strange, the commanding 

inu it, really wished to formulate its ideal officer said, "All that is out of fashion 

of society accordingto these principles, — now. Clear out with your dead man and 

a state of tilings which would have much take him to the cemetery! That is the 

resembled a return to primitive bar- best thing you can do, — by far more de- 

barism. By the application of such cent than to have him sprinkled with a 

ideas we get back to the stone age. The lot of dirty water by the priests." 

Commune perished too soon to unveil or The invasion of the convents and the 

precise its philosophical system, which search for compromising documents and 

would have been of a purely animal ma- evidence of the crimes which the lower 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



4IJ7 



classes have always believed were com- 
mitted in the mysterious religious edifices, 
attracted great attention from all who 
were in Paris during the insurrection. 
In the Picpus, a celebrated religious in- 
stitution in the Faubourg St. Antoine, the 
Communal searchers announced one day 
that they had found something very 
horrifying. They came to one cell, 
which the terrified nun who was com- 
pelled to serve them as guide refused to 
opeu ; eo they forced an entrance, and 
there found in a narrow dungeou three 
nuns, who had been imprisoned tor nine 
years. Neither of the three women had 
sense enough to understand that deliver- 
ance was at hand, but each seemed dimly 
to realize that something strange had 
happened. Noue of them could explain 
why they had been imprisoned. In the 
cellars of this convent the Communists 
dug up the earth, and announced that 
they there found many skeletons and 
bones of children. This statement was 
naturally deuied with much warmth by 
all the Catholic population ; whereupon 
the Commune announced that it would 
place the testimony of its delegates with- 
out doubt, and opened an inquest on the 
subject, which was swallowed up in the 
absorbing excitement of the greater 
events when the regular troops entered. 
In these dangerous and disturbed days 
of the early part of May one sometimes 
saw walking tranquilly oti the boulevard, 
as if there had been no interruption to 
his daily habits or the serenity of his 
intellectual life, the venerable composer 
Auber, the "young old" man, as he was 
called by his compatriots, who persisted 
in giving him a reputation which pos- 
terity perhaps will refuse to accord him. 
Auber was of that race of Parisians 
which leads an active and vigorous life 
long after the allotted age of threescore 
and ten has been reached ; and in bis 



eighty-eighth and eighty-ninth year he 
was as fiesh and apparently as untram- 
melled by the ordinary infirmities of age 
as a man of sixty. lie was usually 
surrounded by a bevy of charming young 
women, who delighted in offering him 
public profession of their admiration ; 
and he accepted these delicate feminine 
offices, the presentation of bouquets, and 
pretty compliments, with a grave and 
stately courtesy, which belonged to the 
elder school, and of which the new gen- 
eration has scarcely preserved a trace. 
He was a great favorite under the 
Empire, both with the government and 
the people ; and I remember to have 
seen him standing hand in hand with 
Rossini, on the occasion of a great con- 
cert given at the Palais de ITndustrie, 
receiving for more than twenty minutes 
a tremendous ovation. Wreaths, crowns, 
and flowers were showered about the 
two composers who had contributed so 
much to the intellectual enjoyment of 
the world. The hundreds of musicians 
applauded as enthusiastically as did the 
twenty-live thousand persons in the audi- 
ence. I question if there was ever a 
greater popular reception accorded to a. 
musician. Auber had once been strik- 
ingly handsome. His face, which was 
very pale; his deep-set eyes, which still 
retained a. bit of their quondam sparkle; 
his white hair, and his dignity of man- 
ner, — made a pleasant and a striking im- 
pression. Persons who saw him in the 
lobby of the Opera Comique, which is a 
kind of temple to his talent, for we can 
scarcely accord him genius, would turn 
and inquire who he was. Tin- old man 
who had hail such a long and pleasant ca- 
reer died after an illness of a day or two, 
in his mansion in the Rue St. Georges, and 
scarcely any public notice was taken of 
his funeral, for most of his friends were 
absent, and the general public had other 



468 



EUROPE 1\ STORM AND CALM. 



things than music and the memories of 
its composer to engage their attention. 

One of the illogical notions of the 
Commune was that in the event of its 
success, it would be able to promote 
general and lasting peace throughout 
Europe; and early in its ephemeral reigu 
it decreed that the erection of the Ven- 
d6me Column had been an insult to 
sister nations, and should be atoned for 
by the destruction of this memorial of 
military glory. Speakers at meetings 
during the siege had often hinted at the 
destruction of the Column, saying that 
the French nation had no interests save 
those strictly allied with peace, and, 
therefore, should not maintain a standing 
menace and memento of triumph. Many 
a Frenchman who had no sympathy with 
the ideas of the Commune had penned a 
philippic against thegreat bronze column. 
Auguste Barbier was not a great poet, 
but he was a very good one, ami when he 
wrote his indictment against the Idol, as 
he called the Column, he created a pro- 
found impression. lie awoke an echo 
which the Bonapartist family would have 
much preferred to leave sleeping. Victor 
Iluco hail also cursed the gigantic 
"•Monument to murder" in verse none 
the less eloquent because filled with 
malice and political venom. Barbier 
wrote a magnificent allegory, in which he 
described Napoleon as spurring the 
French people to exhaustion, yet de- 
manding that they should goon, and for- 
ever on. II is description of the entry of 
the Allies into l'aris, in 1814, and the 
manner in which the French people, 
which had been mastered by Napoleon I., 
had been compelled to humble itself 
before the rude northern men and the 
warriors of middle Europe, excelled in 
simple eloquence and pathos any of the 
protests against the Second Empire. 
No sooner was the day set by the 



Commune for the taking down of the 
Column than engineers asserted that its 
fall would shake the foundations of the 
most solid houses in the neighborhood; 
and all the stupid shopkeepers for a mile 
around papered their huge glass windows 
with lone, strips of thick brown paper 
to deaden the results of the concussion. 
Many people urged that only the statue 
of Napoleon in his Ca-saric robes should 
be removed. The Commune had. how- 
ever, made its contract with an able aud 
ingenious engineer, who, for the sum of 
35,000 francs, was to lay the monument 
low before a certain day, agreeing to pay a 
forfeit of (it HI francs for each day's delay. 
The Column, which was erected in imita- 
tion of the Antonine Column, at Rome, 
was begun in 1800, one year after Na- 
poleon's greatest campaign ; and the 
military administration placed twelve 
hundred captured cannon at the disposi- 
tion of the architects. This enormous 
weight of bronze, amounting to one 
million eight hundred thousand pounds, 
was cast into plates, carved in bas-reliefs 
representing the exploits of the Imperial 
campaign. Each plate was three feet 
eight inches high, and was .separated 
from the one above it by a band, <>n 
which were inscribed the names and 
dates of the various engagements. The 
pedestal, established on the site of the 
still more famous one on which stood 
the bronze equestrian statue of Louis 
XIV., was thirty feet high, and the 
column itself rose to the height of one 
hundred and eighteen feet. The eagles 
upon the pedestal were very artistically 
carved, and each weighed five hundred 
pounds. Theeffigyof Bonaparte, placed 
on high, came down twice in successive 
generations; and now the third was to 
fall. On the side facing the Tuilcries 
Gardens, ami just under the dome on 
which the Caesar-Emperor was mounted, 



EUROPE IN STOini AND CALM. 



469 



was this inscription, "This monument 
was raised in memory of the glory of 
the Grand Empire." 

It was said that some of the old Inva- 
lides wept when the Column fell; but 
they were at least the only persons who 
suffered any marked chagrin. For sev- 
eral days before the fall of the Column 
crowds thronged the Rue de la Pais and 
the adjacent streets, the workmen and 
workwomen being especially anxious to 
be present at the ceremony. Many quar- 
rels arose daily in these gatherings, and 
sometimes a party of irate Communists 
carried off to prison the men and women 
who had dared to express themselves 
against the triumphant faction. On the 
lOtli of May the official journal an- 
nounced in a modest paragraph that the 
demolition of the Column would take 
place at two P.M. A cordon of cav- 
alry, the Republican Guard, clad in red, 
white, and blue, despite the Communistic 
hate of the tricolor, was stationed on 
the Rue de la Paix, and presently the 
usual crowd was so increased that the 
masses were packed in with scarcely 
breathing-room. Every few minutes an 
orderly galloped through the narrow line 
which was left open, bearing news of 
fresh disaster or probable victory to the 
head-quarters. 

In the Place Venddme, and from the 
other side, battalions of troops going 
out to the fight beyond the fortifications 
were singing lusty songs. Workmen 
mounted on the balcony at the Column's 
top, whence so many people, tired of 
life, had east themselves down to die. 
manoeuvred the ropes which descended 
to a gigantic capstan, erected at a safe 
distance from the bed of brush and ma- 
nure upon which tllC glory Of Napoleon 
was finally to repose. Towards two 
o'clock a certain Colonel Henry mounted 
to the top, and, clinging round the feet 



of Napoleon's figure, thrice waved the 
tricolor, tin' flag of France, ami then 
tore it from its staff and threw il into 
the square. Very little responsive cheer- 
ing came from the crowds below, 1ml a 
hand was heard feebly playing the Mar- 
seillaise. 

In the square, which, as we learned 
on that day, was henceforth to be called 
Place Internationale, a huge number of 
the celebrities of Paris Rouge were col- 
lected. Roehefort, accompanied by his 
daughter, his sister, and his secretary, 
was one of the first to arrive, and was 
assigned a prominent window. Many 
of the radical members of the late Corps 
Ligislatif were in the throng, but re- 
received little notice from any one. 
Among the members of the Commune 
were Arnault, Jacques Durand, Portot, 
and Fortune, to whom was assigned the 
speech after the descent of the Column. 
.Inst as the workmen had begun at the 
capstan, two hours after the appointed 
time, and the cables attached to the sum- 
mit of the Column were beginning to 
tighten, a rope snapped, and one of the 
laborers dropped, half killed. lie was 
taken away, and others mounted at once 
to the summit to repair the broken 
cable. The excitable crowd surged up 
and down, and many of the more violent 
anarchists talked of imprisoning the con- 
tractor, who seemed to have failed in 
his scheme. 

But just then the men at the capstan 
began to work again: the Column gave a 
slight shiver, anil an immense scream, 
half tenor, half delight, arose from the 
people. Yet it was necessary to pro- 
cure another cable. Workmen were de- 
spatched to the Ministry of the Marine, 
and another hour of waiting was endured 
by the people, who were profoundly con- 
vinced thai, the crash would be terrible. 
At last a sharp whistle warned every 



470 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



one to watch, and ji i^i as a black-bearded 
gentleman behind me observed thai he 
had been a civil engineer for eighteen 
years, and that he would stake his repu- 
tation on the statement that the Column 
could novcr be gol down that way, (heir 
was a resonant crack, and the great mass 
descended rapidly through the air. A 
dull, dead sound was 
heard as the weight 
crashed through the 
pavement, and then 
an overwhelming 
cloud of dust, arose 

and c one e a 1 e d 

everything. 

But the memorial 
of Imperial glory 



ing up the ladders on to the statue and 
the crumbling ruins. The contractor 
had, after taking off one of the great 
plates of bronze, made a deep incision 
in the stone work. The Column was 
then shored up by two huge beams, one 
of which snapped like an asparagus 
shoot when the fall began. The Column 
burst as it fell, and the statue was sepa- 
rated from the dome. A .sailor jumped 
upon it, and was about to crush the face 
of the bronze Napoleon with a stone, 
but was forbidden by an officer. Dozens 
of people rushed upon the Place, and 
carried off bits of the stone and of the 
shattered plating. 

Fortune's speech was neither long nor 
eloquent, nor was it listened to. The 




EPISODE OF THE COMMUNE. — THE FALLEN CESAR. — Tl IE COLUMN VENHOME. 



was fallen, and Communists embraced 
Communists in the ecstasy of their de- 
light, and women ran hither and yon 
clapping their hands. The Federal cav- 
alry was pushed back by the gigantic 
rush, and retired, growling, and brandish- 
ing sabres of which no one was afraid, 
towards the barricades at the entrance of 
the Place. The smoke and dust having 
cleared away, we saw men mounted on 
the pedestal, and brandishing- red flags 
of the Commune, and other men climb- 



only noteworthy sentence in it was: 
"This is the day of vengeance; this is 
the defiance hurled at the assassins of 
Versailles; this is the day when the peo- 
ple reclaim their rights," — all of which 
was somewhat indefinite. During the 
whole afternoon the sullen booming of 
the cannon was heard ; and many an- 
nounced that the Prussians were firing a 
salute to the Commune, in honor of its 
dignified conduct in taking down the 
war memorial. But this is onlv a 



EUROrE fX STORM AND CALM. 



471 



N° 1 _ 



TJIM SOU 



sample of the absurd rumors that pre- ; n H ( ,tous dissipation. When the guard 
vailed. arrived on the night in question, a large 

It was about this time that the Com- number of officers were found supping 
iiiune, which had declared most radical sumptuously with an equal number of 
measures against the vice of the 
great capital, and particularly 
against the legal recognition of a 
certain vice, sent a strong detach- 
ment of soldiers to close the cele- 
brated Cafe 1 Americain. This brill- 
iant establishment, on one of the 
central boulevards, was, I believe, 
called American because the proprie- 
tor had long exercised the profession 
of a restaurateur in America. It 
was without doubt one of the most 
luxurious establishments in the 
world. The private cabinets were 
adorned with gold ; the panels were 
of satin, embroidered in superb 
colors; elegant pianos, sideboards 
loaded with crystal, and inlaid ta- 
bles, as well as the faultless cuisine 
and the excellent wines, had given 
the cafe an international reputa- 
tion. It was built towards the close 
of 1867, when the Great Exhibition 
had shown the Paris tradesmen what 
a mint of money might be made ou1 
of strangers. The public supper- 




RANDE COLERE 



E DUCHENE, 



A propos des jean-foutres de mcuchards rrni voudrafji 
pousscr hs bons patriotes a la guerre ^Uj 

Sa rjrande motion pour la svpmtur ' 
fecture de police. .^''^ 



fecture de pol, 
Arec son apostro, 
gardes natiak 
citoyens, 

us v'w 




F AC-SIMILE OF A TITLE- 
PAGE. 



* 



Carde h- . 

I. ' m. I '. : 
T af rai- ». 

women, whose costly ap- 
parel was (heir only claim 
to consideration. The 
rooms were rarely opened before midnight, officers were seized, thrown into vans, and 
and were only frequented by strangers, a sent to the front, where they were trans- 
few fashionable and dissipated Parisians, ferred to the trenches, and made to work 
and the ('lite of the dissolute women of with pickaxe and shovel. Thewomenwere 
Paris. Many of the cafes had already packed off to prison and to hard labor; 
been visited by the Communists, and the the waiters in the cafe were seized, and 
garcons, or waiters, taken to serve in the all who had no excuse were drafted. 
army, lint the Cafe" Americain had up The next day a sentinel was placed at 
to this time enjoyed a singular immu- the entrance of the cafe, and no one 
nity. The officers of the innumerable was allowed to enter. The shutters were 
Communist staffs, resplendent with fancy finally put up. and the brilliant throng 
decorations, were accustomed to stroll of loungers on the terrace in front was 
into these places towards midnight when seen no more until the arrival of the 
they were oil' duty, ami there to indulge regulars. 



472 



EUROl'E IX STORM AM) CALM. 



CHAPTER FIFTY. 

The Narrow Escape from a r.ei.^n of Terror. — The Men who Composed the Communal Councils. — The 
Beginning of the End. — The Entry of the Regular Troops.— The Tocsin. — The Night Alarm. 



TOWARDS its close, the Commune 
tended directly to the establishment 
of a ■• reign of terror." It did not enter 
coolly upon such a course, but seems to 
have been driven to it. both by its own 
desperate situation and by the madness 
of its supporters. From the 1st to the 
I'.'iil of May, no day was without its 
revolutionary measures, some of them 
fantastic and ridiculous, others savagely 
practical and dangerous to the security 
of the upper and middle classes. A 
" committee of public safety," composed 
of resolute men like Arnaud, Mil- 
Here, Ranvier, and Felix Pyat, had the 
most extraordinary powers delegated 
to it. The Commune began to (eel the 
lack of money, so the great railways had 
to pay up their back taxes ; and in one 
morning the representatives of the lead- 
ing corporations brought into the Com- 
munal offices many hundreds ofthousands 
of francs. On the 4th of May, the 
Commune abolished all political and 
professional oaths as useless and cum- 
brous formalities ; and on the same day 
it decreed the destruction of the " Ex- 
piatory Chapel," as the modest edifice 
dedieated !■> the memory of Louis XVI. 
is called. 

A lew day; later, the Communists be- 
came bolder. Citizen Fontaine was 
named as delegate to assume charge of 
the confiscation of the estates of the 
churches and monasteries within the 
domain of the Commune. Presently, a 
change was made in the membership of 



the " committee of public safety"; and 
it was then that Delescluze, Eudes, and 
Grambon were joined to the dreaded or- 
ganization. It is easy to see what 
would have been their course from the 
first proclamation which they made, and 
which was dated the 24th of Floreal, 
year '79 ; or in the bourgeois calendar, 
May 1 1th, 1871. This proclamation re- 
quired that till citizens should carry con- 
stantly about them cards establishing 
their identity, by giving their names, 
professions, ages, domiciles, numbers of 
the legions, battalions, or companies, to 
which they belonged ; and furthermore, 
their personal description. With this 
strange law in full operation, no ono 
would have been safe from arrest. 
Thousands of people could have been 
swept into great barracks and prisons, 
and packed together there as they were 
in the old Revolution, on the simple pre- 
text that their identity was not clearly 
established. The " committee of public 
safety" alleged, as the reason for this law, 
that it was necessary to know who weir 
friends and who were enemies. In 
other words, it created a class of sus- 
pects, and if it had once got them into 
prison, who knows but that it might have 
made victims of them as it did of the 

hostages ? 

Meantime, die civil officers of the Com- 
mune were scourged with the fear that 
tin' Versailles government would achieve 
by money what it had not, thus far, suc- 
ceeded in doing by force. They there- 



EVROVF. IN STORM AND CALM. 



473 



fore decreed that there should be " civil 
commissioners" representing the Com- 
mune to act in harmony with, in other 
words to watch over, the generals of the 
three armies of the Commune. These 
generals were Dombrowski, La Cecilia, 
and Wrobleski. At this time, the hand 
of Versailles was seen by the Commu- 
nists in every misfortune, however little 
effect it might have on their campaigns. 
When the great cartridge factory in the 
Rue Rapp was blown up, and one hun- 
dred persons were killed, this was 
instantly attributed by the Commune to 
the enemy at Versailles. 

Another decisive step towards the 
•• Reign of Terror" was made on May 
17th, when the Citizen Raoul Rigault, 
procureur de la Commune, presented 
with a great flourish of trumpets the 
following project. "The Commune of 
Paris, in view of the immediate necessity 
thereof, decrees: Article 1. — A jury of 
accusation can provisionally, in the ease 
(if persons accused of crimes or political 
offenses, pronounce penalties so soon as 
it has decided upon the culpability of 
the accused. Article 2. — Sentences 
shall he deeided by the majority cf the 
votes. Article 3. — Sentences shall be 
executed within twenty-four hours." 

Raoul Rigault hastened to add that he 
would rather allow a culpable person to 
escape than to have a single innocent 
one injured ; and by this single phrase 
he betrayed himself, for In- knew that if 
this savage law were put into operation 
it would entangle in its meshes the inno- 
cent and the guilty alike. Many simi- 
lar projects were brought forward in the 
meetings of the Communists, and if the 
insurrection had lasted another month 
they would all have been in full opera- 
tion. 

Presently new changes were made in 
the Committee of Public Safety, and, 



frequently reorganized, this body, on the 
20th of May, issued a warning t<i all 
individuals who might think of offering 
or accepting money as bribes, that they 
would bring themselves under the penal- 
ties for the crime of high treason, and 
would immediately be brought before 
court-martials. 

In these exciting days, when the fatal 
weakness of the Communist army was 
beginning to disclose itself, the Com- 
munal legislative body still found time 
to devote a little attention to matters of 
education, and il issued an order sup- 
pressing all the subsidized theatres, in 
conformity, to use its own language, 
" with the principles established by the 
first Republic, and enunciated by the 
law of ' Germinal in the year 11.' " But 
the crowning stroke of audacity was the 
decree which indicates, more clearly than 
anything else, the desperate measures 
upon which the Commune was almost 
resolved. It was published on the 20th 
of May, and read as follows : " The 
inhabitants of Paris are invited to return 
to their homes within forty-eight hours. 
After that time their stocks and bonds 
and the registries thereof will be burned." 
This emanated from the Central Com- 
mittee, and was signed by a man named 
Grelier. It was expected to bring back 
many thousands of persons who had 
taken refuge in Versailles. It was the 
vindictive menace of the non-property- 
holding class against the property-hold- 
ers. As a witty French friend of mine 
[Hit it, the Communists invited the prop- 
erty-holders to come home and be 
beaten, and threatened that if they did 
not accept this invitation their houses and 
their proofs of wealth would be burned. 
" Nous limits refuse" mieux que cela," 
said thi' bourgeois; and they remained in 
Versailles and the other suburban towns 
where they had taken refuge. 



474 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

General Cluseret's trial before the existence of a Supreme Being, and were 
Commune was the last exciting incident rnpidlyorganizing a grand scheme of ven- 
previous to the entry of the regular geauce upon the whole property-holding 
troops. Cluserel conducted his own class. This company contained in its 
defense with great coolness and modera- ranks, contrary to what might be sup- 
tion. responded to the most idiotic and posed from its revolutionary actions. 
treacherous insinuations with frankness few men of distinguished ability, and 
and courage, and when hewas acquitted, few who had ever been heard of outside 
after one or two of the more violent the walls of Paris before. Blanqui, the 
members had claimed Ids head, with sublime old revolutionist, whose whole 
ferocity worthy of their prototypes of life seems to have been a blind protest 
the old revolution he made the assem- against the evils of monarchy, and who 
bled members a little speech, in which was no sooner let out of prison than he 
he said that they had seen fit to arrest undertook some conspiracy which speed- 
liim and had now seen fit to discharm' ily brought him back to durance vile, 
him. He bore them no malice, and was — Blanqui had no chance to sit in the 
willing to serve them again if he could. Communal assembly. After actively en- 
It is amusing to reflect that the most gaging in two or three abortive revolu- 
iinporlant charge brought against Gen- tions, which preceded the great final 
era! Cluseret by his incompetent and outbreak of the Commune, he had gone 
ignorant associates in office was that he into the southern departments to prepare 
had boasted that his position was worth the faithful in those sections for the 
a million. " Cluseret," said the apes in coming change at Paris, and was ar- 
uniform who denounced him. " is going rested ami placed in a fortress. Blan- 
lo turn traitor and sell us for a million." qui was a man of superior talent ; but 
As the Genera] himself told the Com- at the time of his connection with the 
munists, — and as there seems little reason Commune he had been so long in prison 
to doubt. — the whole story arose over the that he had hist nearly all knowledge of 
remark of an American who called upon modern progress, as well as his conli- 
him for a pass with which to leave deuce in the professions of moderate 
Paris, and who jocosely said to Cluseret Republicans in France. When he was 
on taking leave of him. " You were finally liberated from prison, seven or 
not worth much money a. little time ago, eight years after lie had been sentenced 
but your place is worth a million now." to "perpetual detention" for his partici- 
This Cluseret repeated, and was forth- pation in the Commune, he was better 
.with denounced by some busybody. acquainted with the courses of the stars 
The members of this company of dar- and the phenomena of the heavens than 
ing adventurers, who thus for more than with every-day politics ; and he survived 
six weeks maintained the greatest in- his liberation but a short time. There 
surrection of modern times, kept up a is something pathetic in the history of 
very vigorous defense against an angry, this old man, nearly thirty years in 
and, on the whole, well-equipped army prison because of his undying hatred of 
of regular troops, overturned nearly illiberalism, as well as because of his 
every important and fundamental prin- valiant attempts to overturn the govern- 
ciple of society, suppressed religion, ments which displeased him. In the 
Scornfully kicked at morals, denied the closing years of his life, while he was 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



475 



still a prisoner at Clervaux, it is said 
that he slept all day and stood wakeful 
all night at his window, studying the 
skv, to which lie had been compelled to 
turn his thoughts because the lower 
world was closed to him. 

The origins and callings of moel of 
the members of the Commune were quite 
humble. Amouroux was a hatter; An- 
drieu. an accountant; Arnaud, a manu- 
facturer; Arnold, an architect; Assi 
and Adrial, mechanics; Bergeret was a 
commercial traveller ; Beslay, who was 
a member of the Finance Committee, was 
described as '-retired from business;" 
Billiorav was an Italian painter. There 
were workers in morocco, in brass, in 
bronze ; bookbinders, shoemakers, stone- 
cutters, dyers, bank clerks, millers, 
chemists, jewellers, house-painters, 
chairmakers, turners, photographers, 
sculptors in wood, commission agents, 
doctors, wine-touts, carpenters, lawyers, 
horse-doctors, corset-makers, teachers, 
civil engineers, and furniture-makers, in 
this motley gathering of men who hoped 
to sway file destinies of Paris, and by 
their conduct to influence the politics of 
Europe. Finally, there were in the 
Communal Council no less than nine 
journalists, of whom two or three were 
vigorous writers, and appeared pro- 
foundly convinced of the justice of the 
insane movement in which they were in- 
volved. Delescluze, Courmet, Vermorel, 
Valles (afterwards the editorof a Radical 

paper in Paris). Vesinier, all had g 1 

local reputations. Cluseret, Gustave 
Courbet, the well-known and eccentric 
painter, and Gustave Flourens, were, 
perhaps, the only Communists whose 
reputation had extended beyond the 
limits of their own country. The ma- 
jority of these men escaped alive out of 
the great whirlwind of the last of May, 
1871. Those who were brought to bav 



died philosophically, like Delescluze, or, 
with a certain bravado, like Milliere and 
Raoul Rigault. They had boldly staked 
their existence upon the success of their 
experiment, and probably the more in- 
telligent of them were sorry to survive 
its failure. 

The end came with startling sudden- 
ness. At one o'clock on the morning of 
Monday, the 23d of May, I was turn- 
ing homeward from the central boule- 
vards, after a loug conversation with a 
marble-worker of Belleville, who had 
given me an animated account of a 
skirmish at the gates of the town from 
which he had just returned, when, at 
tin' corner of the Hue Caumartin, I met 
three friends, and we took our way 
together in the magnificent moonlight 
to the upper story of a huge mansion in 
the Boulevard Malesherbes. The friend, 
who was the lessee of this apartment, 
invited us to remain there overnight, 
putting at our disposition the rooms 
which had recently been deserted by his 
family, and mentioned his conviction 
that important events were close at 
hand. 

Even as he spoke there came a faint 
sound borne on the midnight breeze as of 
music in the distance, or like the clang of 
village bells. Presently it came again, 
and at last swelled into a great harmony 
which was at once superb and exciting. 
One of the party — an Anglo- Parisian — 
sprang out on to the balcony, listened 
for a moment, then rushed back into the 
room and cried, " It is the tocsin ! " 

It was, indeed, the tocsin ; and, should 
I live for a century longer, I should 
hope never to hear again so grand and 
so imposing an alarum. This night of 
May was, save for the occasional crack- 
ing of far-off musketry, so tranquil, so 
full of perfume of flowers and of the 
fresh, green leaves, so abounding in the 



47(i 



EUROPE TN STORM AND CALM. 



lusty life <it' the opening summer, that it 
appealed to revery rather than aroused 
to action. I'ntil the first notes from 
the mellow bells the central district of 
Paris was as quiet as a village. As we 
had walked home we had seen here and 
there a belated soldier dragging his sore 
feet wearily along, or a gossiping group 
of servant-girls; but nothing to call to 
mind the danger anil the excitement of 
war. Ten minutes after the brazen 
clangor of the huge bells in the tower of 
Node Dame had been borne to our 
startled ears, soldiers, cannon, drums, 
trumpets, and bugles seemed to have 
sprung out of the solid earth. Men 
were shouting to each other from the 
roofs of houses; lights and watch-fires 
sprung up on Montmartre ; little bo dies 
of National Guards hastened to group 
themselves into battalions ; and the wild 
notes of the bugles echoed from every 
quarter. 

We sat lone, 1 on the balcony, high 
above the trees, listening to the grand 
anthem of alarm which resounded from 
Belleville down to Notre Dame, from 
St. Sulpice around to St. Germain des 
l'rcs Then, far away. too. where, as we 
afterwards learned, the enemy hail just 

entered, some bells pealed their chimes ; 
others gave solemnly the three regular 
claims, which, when heard amid the 
furious beating of the drum, produced a 
most remarkable effect. Ammunition- 
wagons rattled away right and left : 
and on the corner of the Kue Royale, 
near the noble Corinthian front of the 
Mad 'leine. a great body of soldiers was 

collected, and we heard presently the 
monotonous clatter of their footsteps. 
Presently, mingled with the clangor of 
the bells, and the roll of the drums, 
and the rumble of the batteries, we 
heard the hissing and the bursting of 
shells, now near, now far away. There 



was no doubt of it; the regular army 
had entered, and the great final battle 
was at hand. 

By-and-by the noise of the tocsin 
faded away into the rush of the night 
breeze ; and when we were weary of the 
heavy rumble of cannon going to the 
front, and caissons jolting by. we stole 
to bed, and from sheer fatigue slept 
until dawn. In the morning, when I 
awoke, after a dream of a garden tilled 
with fruits and flowers, tin' first thing 
which I heard was a fresh voice singing: 

'• Bon Fran v ais doit vivre pour elle, 
Et pour elle lion Franeais doit inourir." 

The sempiternal gamin, the Gavroche 
of the barricades, was already on hand, 
— as ready for a combat as for a song. 
As soon as my companions were astir 
we started to leave the house, but were 
met by the concierge with the statement 
that no one could venture into the street, 
that a battle was imminent, and that 
we had barricades on all sides of us. 
We heard cries of fright beneath our 

windows, and these were amply ex- 
plained by the siliilation of the shells, 
which now began to pass over the roof 
in all directions. From the front win- 
dows of our lofty apartment we could 

see the dust eailsed bv the crash of the 

falling projectiles; and a conflagration 
on the Kue de Kivoli was already send- 
ing up columns of dense black smoke. 
Ill the 1'laee de la Concorde we could 

distinctly hear the noise of artillery ; and 
all along the Boulevard Malesherbes we 
saw the defenders of the Commune, the 
soldiers in uniform, and the hoys and 
girls from the workman's quarter taking 
up the paving-stones and piling them into 
barricades, cutting down sycamores and 
dragging them hither and yon for the 
fabrication of ehevaux de frise. Presently 



EUROPI-: IN STORM AND CALM. 



477 



we were joined by two or three Ameri- 
cans, who had been compelled to lend a 
hand at the barricades before they could 
pass, and who had only escaped arrest 
by stating that they had acquaintances 
in this our house, near the door of which 
they had been seized. A sergeant, with 
half-a-dozen men, was marking out a 
semicircular line of defense at the 
mouth of the Rue Pasquier, and watch- 
Ad guards brought into the line of labor- 
ers all men who chanced to enter the 
street. We saw many who refused to 
work smartly rapped over the heads with 
the butts of guns ; and in some cases, 
when a man had escaped, men ran after 
him and dragged him back. The doors 
and windows on the lower floors of all 
shops and houses were rapidly closed, 
and at nine o'clock the Boulevard Males- 
herbes, which at seven had displayed 



all its wonted activity, was as silent as 
a country graveyard. We could look 
directly down upon the barricade, de- 
fended by two small six - pounders, 
handled with great skill by half-a-dozen 
men dressed as soldiers. From the ac- 
tion of these men we judged that they 
were confronting a force by which they 
were likely soon to be attacked, and we 
watched their movements with breathless 
anxiety. As it happened this barricade 
was one of the keys of the situation. 
The attack upon it from the church of 
St. Augustin was one of the most ob- 
stinate and vigorous made by the regulars 
during the street lighting; and by our 
accidental visit to this apartment we 
had secured a capital view of one of the 
most important episodes of the insurrec- 
tion. 



ITS 



EUROPE IN STORM A.\D CALM. 



Oil A PTER FIFTY-ONE. 

Street Fighting as a Science. --The Barricades.— A Ruse de Guerre. —Looking Down on a Rattle — The 
Burning of the Rue Royale. — The Defence of Montmartre. — General Dombrowski's I truth. 



IN a short time the Communists in 
•' our barricade," as we now called 
it. received orders from sonic authority 
further back in the centre of the town. 
The marines manoeuvred their little 
guns, fired away in the direction of the 
St. Augustin Church, which wc could 
nut sec. although we could get a glimpse 
of part of the broad avenue leading 
directly to it. There was much excite- 
ment after this preliminary shot, and in 
a few minutes it was answered by the 
boom of a cannon, and solid shot came 
crashing againstthe great paving-stones, 
upsetting the little guns and raising such 
a dust aud smoke that wc could sec 
nothing for two or three minutes. When 
we looked, one man was down. The 
marines had taken off their hats and 
were shouting, '■'•Vive la Commune" 
and forty or fifty National Guards were 
cowering behind the barricade which had 
been hastily repaired. Crash came an- 
other solid shot again. The stones Hew. 
and two men were carried off. At this 
juncture, sharp-shooters were thrown 
out in front of our barricade, and a cry 
arose in the street that the regulars were 
about to charge. The house in which 
wc were was what is known in Paris as 
an Hot. Standing at the angle of two 
streets, it commanded a view in three 
directions. From the front windows we 
could look directly down upon the bar- 
ricade ju>.t described, on the right upon 
the Boulevard Malesherbes ; and on the 
left into two or three streets, which wc 



now perceived were filled with Commu- 
nists, well fortified behind barricades. 
A great noise of firing now came from 
the Champs Elysdes, ami wc heard a 
bugle sounding the attack. By and by 
the sharp-shooters retired in confusion 
behind their barricade, and looking down 
upon the barricade, we saw that they 
had left four dead men behind them. 

At litis moment the circular barricade 
at thi-' corner of the Rue Pasquier was de- 
serted by its defenders, who had cone to 
reinforce the greater one. extending di- 
rectly across the Boulevard Malesherbes. 
The rushing sound of the solid shot com- 
ing from the church of St. Augustin was 
now incessant. The Versaillais hail got 
the battery at work, and were preparing 
to make an attack, titter having made a 
break in the barricades. 

Towards four o'clock the storm of 
shot and shell became so deadly and 
overwhelming that our rooms were hardly 
safer than the open street. The Commu- 
nists had taken possession of all the bal- 
conies behind the line of their defense, 
and sent shot frequently into the 1 win- 
dows of the houses outside their lilies, 
because of their suspicion that the 
regular troops had occupied some of 
those houses. About half past four we 
witnessed probably the most singular 
incident of the whole insurrection. One 
of our company who was watching at a 
front window cried out. — '•The Liners! 
The Liners!" We all tan to see, anil 
there surely enough was a Versaillais 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



479 



advancing towards the barricade timidly, 
while the insurgents were loudly cheering 
him in token of welcome. One of the 
Communists held his musket reversed in 
the air, and shook it invitingly. But 
suddenly the regulars appeared from all 
corners, came running across the street 
from the direction of the Rue Boissy 
d Anglais, and stood huddled together as 
if waiting some general movement. One 
held up his hand to his comrades at the 
church as if urging them not to fire, and 
then cautiously entered the barricade, 
lie was received with great joy, embraced, 
ami called endearing names. Others 
were inclined to follow him, when all at 
once a suspicion seemed to thrill the 
Communist lines, — this might be a ruse 
il<' guerre, a stratagem ; and twenty in- 
surgents leaped upon the piled-up stones, 
and pointed their guns straight into the 
faces of the regulars, who were now 
pressing forward, and were so taken 
by surprise that they crouched behind, 
looking pitifully up, as if they expected 
the fatal shots. Just at this juncture a 
Versaillais officer appeared at the coi- 
ner of the Rue Pasquier, where a number 
of his men stood undecided. He angrily 
called them back, and, throwing away 
the gun which he had been carrying, 
drew his sword. Twenty or thirty liners 
ran swiftly, and succeeded in reaching 
the court-yard of a neighboring house, 
the door of which the}' forced open. A 
Communist officer shot a liner as lie 
ran ; the man dropped dead in his tracks ; 
and then a frightful hand-to-hand mildi 
ensued. The explanation of this singu- 
lar proceeding was obvious. The regu- 
lars had intended to take the barricade 
by stratagem. The insurgents had hoped 
to incite them to desert and join their 
force? ; and when each party found 
its hopes were vain the fight was in- 
evitable. 



Through the rising smoke we could 
dimly discern the figure of a woman, 
tall, angular, ferocious, brandishing a 
gun, and bringing it down with resound- 
ing thwacks upon the heads of those 
assailants who braved the terrible lire. 
She had evidently just arrived in the 
barricade. Every ten minutes, which 
seemed hours, there was a great clamor 
of bullets and cannon. When it ceased 
the Versaillais had all disappeared, the 
insurgents were once more crouched 
behind the barricades, and many of the 
wounded were crying out touching 
appeals for the suspension of hostilities 
until they could lie helped away. A 
Versaillais ran out of a door in the 
Rue Pasquier, and tried to drag in the 
dead man shot by the Communist officer. 
A bullet whizzed close to his ear. He 
dropped the dead man, who festered in 
the sun for hours thereafter. An insur- 
gent lay dead at the right corner of our 
house on the boulevard. An old gray- 
haired liner reclined directly opposite 
our house in a door-way, looking as it' 
he had sat down, and fallen asleep. 
Half a dozen of the red-breeched soldiery 
were heaped together in front of the 
barricade; and behind the stones the 
wounded were numerous, and their am- 
bulance men were hard at work. No 
sooner had the Versaillais retreated 
than their batteries began tiring solid 
shot and shell again. From live o'clock 
until dark the musketry and shelling were 
unrelenting. The insurgents retaliated 
by subjecting the line Fasquier and the 
right side of the Boulevard Malesherbes 
to a veritable bombardment. The walls 
and floors of all the adjacent houses 
trembled, and bullets whistled once more 
through our apartments, breaking mir- 
rors and cutting curtains. A gentleman 
from St. Louis, who had frequently been 
cautioned by members of our partv 



480 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



because lie insisted on looking with a 
large field-glass out of a window unpro- 
tected by shutters, learned a lesson 
which taught him much. He had 

retreated to an arm-chair in the middle 
of the room, and there continued his 
observations with his glass, when lie 
suddenly arose, and went into the dining- 
room to get a glass of water. When lie 
returned he was shown two bullet-holes 
through the back of the chair, and the 
marks on the marble mantel-piece just 
behind. Had he not been thirsty at that 
particular moment the two bullets would 
have perforated his breast. 

As darkness came on, both parties 
fired at flashes, and now and then sent 
shells over the houses. The concierge 
came to supplicate us not to have can- 
dles or gas lighted. We retired, for 
comparative safety, to the back rooms 

of the lower lloois, and supped as best 
we could off bread, rice, and a little 
wine, which the landlord, who lived in 
the house, offered us. American house- 
wives must be told that in the apart- 
ment system of the Parisian domiciles 
the pantry is an unknown institution, 
and a blockade of twenty-four hours 
leaves the dwellers in Paris houses des- 
titute of food. Towards nine o'clock 
the smoke cloud did rise a little, but all 
night the angry storm of lead raged at 
intervals, anil early dawn brought the 
noise of :i great attack in the Champs 
Klvsees, and the wild roar of one directly 
behind our house. The Versa illais were 
now all around us. From time to time 
the barricade on our front was deserted, 
the Nationals, as the Communists now 
called themselves, rushing to assist in 
the network of defence in the various 
streets, Godot de Mauroi, Ferine des 
Mathurins, and De Seze. On this 
Tuesday noon a tremendous cannon- 
ading announced the decisive attack on 



the Place de la Concorde. This was 
succeeded by a fusillade, much more 
terrible and far stronger than any yet 
heard in our street. Now the rush 
of bullets became unite terrifying. The 
thunder of shells, the blowing of bugles, 
and the cracking of chassepots were 
steadily intensified until half-past four 

in the afteri 1, when a detachment of 

Veisaillais suddenly appeared in the 
cornels of the streets leading from the 
Champs Flysees. As they saw the 
Communist barricades they hesitated. 
An officer was pricking them on with his 
sword when a shot from the barricade 
struck him in the knee. He fell to the 
sidewalk, still brandishing his sword. 
The men rushed past him, and poured a 
sharp volley into the now demoralized 
insurgents. They saw that they would 
be taken in the rear if they remained a 
moment longer, so they fled precipitately, 
fighting as they went; and the tricolor 
was seen waving from all the houses 
near us. 

The liners at once proceeded to ex- 
amine the knapsacks left behind by the 
Communists, and it was a quaint sight 
to see them greedily, and yet suspi- 
ciously, eating the bread found in them. 
In a U-w moments the house opposite us 
was tilled with soldiers, so we appeared 
on the balcony and hung out an Ameri- 
can Hag. A dozen guns were pointed at 
it, but an officer intervened, and expla- 
nations, which seemed for the moment 
satisfactory, were made. Our newly- 
come Versaillais arranged the barricade 
so as to turn their backs to us. About 
fifty men were put behind it, and they 
lay quietly on their arms waiting orders. 
Bullets now struck the Madeleine's noble 
walls every moment, and little pieces 
were chipped from the columns. 

A great conflagration burst out in 
the Rue Royale, and a dense column of 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



481 



smoke near the Place de la Concorde in- 
clined us to believe that the public build- 
ings near at hand had been fired. The 
insurgents were making a strong fight in 
the Rue de Rivoli, aud their batteries on 
the boulevards were playing directly on 
the houses which the Versaillais had 
occupied at the junction of our street 
with the boulevard. We could now vent- 
ure on to our balconies with compara- 
tive safety, although the soldiers thought 
it wise to shield themselves with mat- 
tresses. The spectacle around was be- 
yond description. Almost every house 
save our own was vomiting fire and 
smoke from twenty windows. Great 
streams of sparks and cinders were 
flying over the Rue Royale ; shells were 
descending there and iu the Place de la 
Concorde ; batteries were rattling under 
our windows on the sidewalks, and in 
the middle of the street, ammunition- 
wagons on every side of us made the 
alighting of shells in our vicinity doubly 
dangerous. The iron hail-storm now 
seemed to turn anil continue, in a meas- 
ure, up the boulevards, but presently 
changed, and we could see that the Ver- 
saillais had occupied the Place de la 
Madeleine, and learned that the insur- 
gents were slowly retreating down the 
arcades of the Rue de Rivoli. The sur- 
render of the barricade Malesherbes, 
which was the way to all the approaches 
to the Madeleine, and to the whole net- 
work of barricades between us and the 
Grand Opera, had been an important 
move for the invading regulars. 

As soon as our barricade was carried 
the slaughter in the streets was dread- 
ful. The soldiers, although quite sober 
and very well disciplined, bad probably 
been instructed to give but little quarter. 
Whenever there was the slightest resist- 
ance when they arrived they shot the 
men as soon as made prisoners. We 



saw six insurgents shot in the Rue Go- 
dot de Mauroi a moment after they were 
taken. Houses were searched, and any 
man found with his hands slightly black- 
ened with powder was instantly shot. 
The soldiers backed him up against the 
wall, threw a couple of men into line; 
two reports were heard, and the dead 
man's coat was stripped off and thrown 
over his head. These men were left 
lying where they fell until Wednesday 
afternoon. 

The Malesherbes barricade, first at- 
tacked at ten o'clock on Monday morning, 
was taken at five on Tuesday afternoon. 
It held out exactly thirty-one hours, during 
which time the insurgents in the central 
part of the town managed to execute de- 
fenses which otherwise they could never 
have managed. Had Montmartre not 
been taken at such an early epoch in the 
tight the Versaillais would have had 
far greater losses before reaching the 
central boulevards. This barricade was 
defended by about two hundred men, 
most of whom were very brave. The 
majority of them were killed or taken 
prisoners before reaching the boulevards. 
All the way down the Boulevard Hauss- 
mann soldiers met with the most deter- 
mined resistance. "One man, whom we 
cornered," said an Eleventh-artillery- 
man to me, "ran into a courtyard, and 
we agreed to spare him if lie gave up his 
gun : but he closed his bands so tightly 
about it that we had to pry his fingers 
off one by oue. Then we shot him." 
An old man of sixty, as the same artil- 
lery-man was standing at the head of 
the Boulevard Haussmann, was shot in 
sight of his son of fourteen, who threw 
himself on the body, and begged to be 
killed also. " It was pitiful to see." 
said the rough Lyons boy, turning quite 
pale. " We have left fifty dead men 
above here," he added ; " but we shall 



482 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

be revenged down below;" and he fered but little from the projectiles thrown 

pointed to the Madeleine. from the great hill ; and early Tuesday 

Although we went into the streets morning the divisions of General Lad- 
thai Tuesday evening we did n < « t go mirault's troops, taking possession of 
farther than the barricade, as the sus- all the gates from the Forte Maillot 
picions of the Versailles troops were very to St. Ouen, had attacked Montmartre 
strong, and they saw an escaping ('"in- in the rear, while the Duplessis division 
munist in every civilian. We saw a went up from the Gare St. Lazare through 
number of arrested persons taken to the the Rue d'Amsterdam. General Clin- 
line Boissy d'Anglais, where they were; chant then sent reinforcements to all 
judged and immediately shot. We re- the exterior boulevards ; also to the Rue 
rnained in-doors that night, and at early Blanche. The barricades on the Boule- 
dawn went out to find that the insurgents van! des Batignolles, and the streets 
had been compelled to withdraw from all entering it, were carried without much 

their positions in the neighborh hand resistance; and at halt-past nine the 

from all the central boulevards below the Versaillais entered precipitately on the 
Rue Drouot ; also that they had fired the Place Clichy, which had been hastily 
public buildings in their line of retreat abandoned by the Communists. 
towards the Hotel de Ville. Entering Montmartre then began Bring directly 
the Rue Royale we found heaps of dead into Clichy, and wrecked numerous 
men, and saw many of the houses on the houses in the vicinity. Women and 
right-hand side slowly burning. Fire- men fired from windows upon the regu- 
nien were inducing every passer-by to lars, and were at once taken out, placed 
help, and we had to stand in line and against walls, ami shot. The Mont- 
pass buckets of water, in the primitive martre cannon were finally silenced at 
Parisian fashion of extinguishing fires, ten o'clock. The regulars flattered 
before we could establish our right to themselves that they had dismounted 
pass on. The insurgents, we were told, the insurgent guns; but the truth was, 
had applied petroleum to burn the quar- that there was no more ammunition on 
ter when they found thej' could no longer the mountain. The Federals did not. 
hold it. Here, also, we heard the story expect to he so quickly surrounded, and 
that, fifty insurgents had been bayoneted ammunition wagons blocked half-a-dozen 
in the Madeleine; but this was untrue, out-of-the-way streets. Finding their 
Several men were killed at the church, endeavors to scale the heights and bring 
but none inside the sacred walls. fresh supplies to the batteries useless. 

The formidable character of the works the drivers were shot from their horses, 
at Montmartre and the immense nam- Four new barricades were then thrown 
her of guns accumulated there by the up on the Place Clichy, hut only one 
insurgents had made every one in the made a determined defense, and cost 
central quarters of Paris anxious, as the the regular army a large number of 
Communists had sworn to bombard that men. The liveliest resistance was made 
section whenever the Versailles troops in the Place Blanche, where a few Fed- 
occupied it as far as the Grand Opera, erals held out tor two hours against a 
But General Clinchant's troops, who large force. One of the barricades was 
had occupied the Pare Monceau during taken by stratagem on the part of the 
the night and morning of the entry, suf- Versaillais. >vho entered houses directly 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



483 



above the insurgents, and from the 
windows shot down scores. On the 
Place Pigale numerous mitrailleuses 
sent destruction against the attacking 
forces, but by noon the Federals were 
driven quite to the south think of the 
hill. Just as they were preparing for a 
new stand there the red breeches ap- 
peared on the hill-top and wildly pro- 
claimed victory. These men belonged 
to a division of the Ladmirault Corps, 
which had swept away the batteries near 
St. Ouen and took one hundred and five 
cannon on .the road. Arriving at the 
plateau on the hill-top, they found it 
deserted. The mass of the Federals 
had escaped by the streets leading to- 
wards La Chapelle. The panic in the 
retreat was frightful. The streets were 
strewn for half a mile with knapsacks, 
guns which the Communists had broken 
in their fury, with cartridges, and even 
with uniforms, which many men in their 
fright had torn off and thrown away. 
Some cowards attempted to take refuge 
in a house, but found the doors closed 
against them, and were shot down like 
dogs. The stampede was only rallied 
at La Chapelle, where barricades were 
hastily erected. The regulars occupied 
all the houses, searched the rooms, and 
whenever they found a man apparently 
fresh from the fight he was shot without 
mercy. The house of a blacksmith, in 
the Rue de Navarin, stood a severe siege, 
but finally all the defenders were taken 
and killed. At five in the evening the 
fight was still in progress on the Boule- 
vard Rochechouart ; but before night- 
fall all the Montmartre section was in 
the power of the regular army. 

The defense of this noted hill seems 
to have been confided to General Clu- 
seret, but he had not been heard of at 
the close of the action. The story of 
General Dombrowski's death is simple 



and almost touching. The insurgent 
General was at La Muette when the 
news came that a great attack in that, 
vicinity had succeeded. An orderly 
hastily brought him word that the Ver- 
saillais would probably soon surround 
the house in which lie had his head- 
quarters. He at once burned his papers 
and ran out of the building to the rail- 
way station of the Ceinture, and finally 
gained the Place Vend6me, where, it 
will be remembered, was the central 
head-quarters. From that point he went 
to Batignolles, and on Tuesday was in 
the thick of the light on Montmartre. 
While riding along the Boulevard Or- 
nano, accompanied by a large number 
of his staff officers, about noon, he was 
struck in the abdomen by a musket bul- 
let and fell to the ground. Four men 
bore the dying General, who bit the cloth 
of the stretcher in his agony, to the 
Hospital Lariboisiere, where he died 
shortly afterwards. His last words were, 
according to one version, "You see how 
one dies when he has been betrayed." 
Another account, and probably a more 
trustworthy one, given by the hospital 
aids, says that, shortly before death, he 
cried out: " And those men accused me 
of betraying them ; " then he babbled 
of his wife and child, and so passed 
away. His aides-de-camp carried off 
his body in a common wagon, after hav- 
ing theatrically sworn before the death- 
bed that they would avenge him. 

Dombrowski's melancholy exclamation 
about treason was prompted by the 
rumor which had at one time gained 
ground in the Communist circles, that he 
had been bribed by the regulars, and 
that if he had not been corrupt the troops 
could not have entered. There is no 
foundation for this slander. Dom- 
browski, although misguided, was brave 
and honest. He had perhaps thought 



4*4 



ECUoPE IX STORM AXP CALM. 



of making his way through some point of 
the Prussian lines, and escaping when 
the battle in Paris became hopeless ; but 
this does not seem clearly proved. There 
was a story that he with his "seven 
hundred horsemen " had intended to 
gallop to Belgium, cutting their way 
through any small villages which might 
offer resistance. But any one who had 
seen iiis seven hundred horsemen would 
know that this was absurd. Dom- 
browski's staff was mounted on omnibus 
horses, old roadsters who had already 
done their best service, and presented 
a most, ridiculous appearance. In the 
whole of the Commune army there were 
not threescore men who knew how to 
ride. 

Early Wednesday morning, just as the 
first glimpses of dawn were visible, the 
Bring in and around the Rue Royale and 
on the boulevards died quite away. The 
far-oil' cannon shots convinced us that 
the insurgents had retired towards the 
Louvre, and were fighting their way to 
the Bastille. We had returned to sleep at, 
the house in the Boulevard Malesherbes ; 
ami at, dawn, on Wednesday morning, 
we were once more in the Hue Royale. 
One side of this line street was now 
almost entirely burnt away, and the re- 
maining walls tottered and gave forth a 
peculiar odor, as if dead bodies were 
burning within. Many of the unfortu- 
nate inhabitants were doubtless roasted 
alive in their cellars. Near the junction 
of the boulevard with the Rue Royale 
lay the body of an old man, a Com- 
munist, with a horrible wound in the 
head. Some passers-by hail removed the 
covering from his face, and the open 
eyes were quite frightful to look upon. 
Farther on was the corpse of a liner. 
young and handsome. 

At an angle of the Rue Royale was 
still another victim, beaten half out of 



shape. Down at the great double bar- 
ricade, at the entrance to the Place de la 
Concorde, great crowds were collected, 
peering over at the vestiges of the fight. 
In the Place, the caryatides supporting 
the fountain hasins were scarred with 
bullets, and the great statue of Lille had 
fallen from its pedestal. The beautiful 
equestrian statues at the entrance of the 
Champs Ely sees had miraculously es- 
caped. Undoubtedly the barricades at 
the corner of the Rue Royale and the 
Place 1 de la Concorde had been but poorly 
defended. A soldier of the line ran close 
by one of them on Tuesday afternoon, 
and tore down the two red flags flutter- 
ing above it before the astonished 
insurgents could fire a shot. As he re- 
turned, a discharge of musketry burst 
from the barricade, and the courageous 
liner fell flat. A shout arose. " He is 
dead ! He is dead ! " cried the insurgents. 
He had only fallen to escape the shots, 
and scampered back to his own lines 
unharmed. 

It having been long before determined 
among the insurgents that, if they could 
not obtain the municipal franchise of 
Paris, they should make a systematized 
attempt to burn all the public monuments 
ami palaces, as well as the ministries 
and principal houses, it is not, surprising 
that the Rue Royale was so readily filed. 
During the days of Monday and Tues- 
day, in various houses in the Boulevard 
Malesherbes, in the Rue de Rivoli. and 
Rue de la Paix even, little square boxes 
were placed behind the doors, or in other 
obscure corners in the court-yards. These 
boxes, when examined, were found to 
contain petroleum, so arranged that it 
could be fired at, a moment's notice. A 
gentleman whose word 1 cannot doubt, 
one of the editors of I,i' Temps, told me 
that the insurgents used every pretext 
to conceal from the inhabitants the fact 



EUUOrE IN STORM AND CALM. 



485 



that they were firing the houses. Had 
not the regular troops been very near at 
hand, when his house was invaded by 
the Communists, he was certain the 
latter would have succeeded in destroy- 
ing it. Men who belonged to what was 
organized as the incendiary battalion 
disguised themselves as firemen, and led 
the flames instead of helping to ex- 
tinguish them. This sounds almost in- 
credible, but there is very good evidence 
of its truth. Men came from all quarters 
earning bottles of petroleum and in- 
flammable matches in their pockets, and 
one's life was not worth a rush anywhere 
in the street, as it needed only the de- 
nunciation of the first bourgeois to have 
any person shot down by the infuriated 
soldiery. As we turned to leave the 
Rue Koyale we saw a regiment of liners 
passing on to the fight at the Louvre, 
on the double-quick. The officers were 
swearing at and striking the wounded 
men, who, overloaded and stained with 
blood and covered with dust, bad little 
elasticity in their steps. 

Great jets of fire were streaming up 
in the direction of the Rue St. Honor^, 
and beyond the Tuileries. and the burn- 
ing Ministry of Finances sent up flames. 
Now and then, from the latter building, 
a shower of sparks and half-burnt papers 
came drifting above us, and the air was 
hot and sulphurous. People's faces were 
blanched with a new fear, for conflagra- 



tion's are so unusual at Paris that most 
citizens are frightened even at an or- 
dinary one. This gigantic series of fires, 
this wholesale destruction of property 
by the vindictive Communists, actually 
turned the heads of many people. The 
excess of sudden insanity, consequent 
on the horrors of the seven days' light, 
was so numerous as to excite universal 
attention among medical men. 

Wednesday night will always lie re- 
membered by those who witnessed its hor- 
rors as the " night of tires." Returning 
that evening to our old quarters on the 
Boulevard Malesherbes we remarked 
among the inhabitants along the route a 
feverish agitation. Every one suspected 
every one else of attempting to fire the 
house in which he lived, and the con- 
cierges were busy on the roofs with hose 
watering the walls, or below arranging 
wet mortar against the cellar windows, 
or placing barrels of water and heaps of 
sand in the court-yards. As we passed 
through the Rue Scribe we saw groups 
of soldiers marching men and women 
who were to be shot, a gun. it was said, 
having been fired from the house in 
which they had been taken. It was after 
dark when we arrived at the scene of the 
late Malesherbes fight. The streets were 
crowded with soldiery, and hardly half 
an hour passed without the rattle of 
musketry, indicating an execution at the 
military post in the Rue Boissy d' Anglais. 



486 



EUROPE IX STORM A.Xh CALM. 



CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO. 



The Night of Fires. — The Pctv 



-The Execution of Women. — Paris in Flames. 



FROM the upper windows of our 
house we could see the great fires 
in the Rue St. Honore^ and the Rue de 
Rivoli, where shops and nouses were 
constantly fired by the daring incendiary 
brigade. Shells from the Buttes Chau- 
mont, where the retreated Communists 
had now erected their barricades, came 
regularly, six every live minutes (we 
counted them repeatedly), to add their 
terrors to the rapidly increasing flames. 
The burning Tuileries still sent up their 
lights, fantastic as a aurora borealis, on 
the horizon, and the distant clamor of 
fusillade came borne on the wicked wind 
which seemed to delight in spreading 
the flames. Officers passed beneath our 
windows, constantly enjoining the inhabi- 
tants to watch their houses with the 
greatesl vigilance; we were not allowed 
to have any lights, and had little inclina- 
tion to run the risk of a domiciliary visit, 
which might have resulted in our forced 
departure for the military post, where to 

be suspected was to be executed. 

About nine o'clock we were called to 
the garret to witness an immense new 
burst of flame, which we were told was 
La Villette on lire, the troops having 
lost no time in firing it. after having 
summoned the insurgents from the bar- 
ricades to surrender. The Hotel de 
Yille. which was now burning, added the 
vast glow of its conflagration to the 
spectacle. The accumulation of horrors 
for the [last few days, the promenades 
anion"; the heaps of dead and dying, the 
danger incurred by merely walking in 



the enraged and affrighted throngs, had 

so unsettled our nerves that the sudden 
appearance of eight gendarmes in the 
garret, whence we were viewing the 
scene, almost unmanned us. In harsh 
tones they demanded why two of our 
company had mounted to the roof, and 
bade them come down at once. They 
descended precipitately, and we explained 
ourselves. The gendarmes having as- 
sured themselves of our nationality, re- 
tired, grumbling, and we refrained from 
further adventures in pursuit of knowl- 
edge. Nothing was left but to crawl to 
the front windows and watch (he reflec- 
tion of the flames on the sullen sky, and 
to hear the rumbling of the distant 
battle. All night we lav wakeful, listen- 
ing to the cries of fright or of stern 
command. Towards one o'clock, a cry 
arose, a cry of fear and anguish of a 
woman in her last agony. It fairly 
chilled our blood. We could not refrain 
f 1*0111 running to the windows and listen- 
ing. It was a woman taken in the act 
of firing the street, and we heard her led 
away, protesting with bitter screams. 
"You can explain to the commandant," 
said a voice. The woman was hurried 
to the Rue Pasquier. Presently there 
was a shot : then all was still for a few 
moments. 

The citizens who had not sympathized 
with the insurrection began to appear 
on the streets on Wednesday. Pale 
faces peeped out here and there; shop- 
keepers took down from their dusty 
shutters the proclamations which the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



487 



Commune had pasted upon them ; the 
tricolor was exhibited from every window 
within the line of the regular troops ; 
squads of cavalry patrolled the streets, 
and the ■• men of order." who had care- 
fully hidden themselves since their dis- 
comfiture in the Rue de la Paix, on the 
day of their manifestation, were out in full 
force, and beat La (ienerale furiously. 
All of the government people wore tri- 
color badges on their left arms. Guns 
were stacked on the pavements, and the 
shopkeepers and rentiers of the Rue de 
la Paix, instead of the marlile-workers 
and masons of Belleville, now commanded 
us to passer au large. It was curious 
to notice the thirst for blood which 
these fine fellows, who might have 
stopped the insurrection at its outset, 
lnil who had refrained from just the 
effort necessary to check it. now mani- 
fested when the regulars had done the work. 
The Place Yendome was occupied by 
the regulars on Wednesday morning. 
The inhabitants of the quarter screamed 
with delight as every new prisoner was 
brought in. Men came with their arms 
pinioned behind their backs, and. as 
they entered the square, and passed 
out of sight of the ferocious, gaping 
crowd, a detonation would be heard, 
and all would be over. The same 
soldiers who had done the execution 
took their way back to their post of duty 
amid the acclamations of the people. 
The officers on the court-martials had an 
inductive method of getting at the truth. 
They were mild in their speech, and 
would say, "Come, now, friend, you 
might as well confess." The man, tempted 
by the kindly voice, would own up. after 
many equivocations, that he had done 
little or nothing. '-Yes. but you did 
take part in the insurrection?" and 
when he answered " Yes,'' his doom was 
at once pronounced. 



The kindling of the fires seems to have 
given the property-holders a terrible 
thirst for blood. If any one ventured to 
say. ••That man ought not to be shot: 
he looks like a weak, misguided creat- 
ure," the unhappy man who thus pleaded 
for clemency would lie howled at and 
threatened with arrest if he said any- 
thing further. Faces in these days 
shone witli a sort of lurid light. The 
little petty grocer and the great mer- 
chant of lace, the shopkeeper and the 
banker, seemed to think their express 
duty was now to hoot, kick, strike, and, 
if necessary, kill defenseless prisoners. 
Old women, venerable at least by their 
gray hairs, were called degrading names 
as the soldiers pushed them onto prison, 
which few left alive. In dozens of cases 
these women were simply looking after 
their husbands or sons, yet they Were 
arrested on suspicion of endeavoring to 
fire the quarters. Many of the women 
were found with their aprons tilled with 
explosive matches, and thej>e'£roZew.se was 
a veritable personage, although her ex- 
ploits were grossly exaggerated. Dead 
men were allowed to rot uncared lor. and 
vulgar passers-by pulled the coverlets 
from their faces and made unfeeling 
remarks. Our hearts seemed to revolt. 
Sometimes we could not believe our 
senses, and went about trembling with 
horror. A man coming out of a house 
at the corner of the Rue Pasquier, on 
Wednesday afternoon, was denounced 
as a Communist. He was clean, well- 
dressed, and tranquil. Ten or twelve artil- 
lery officers drew their swords and were 
about to cut him down, when it was 
decided to take him to the post in the 
opposite street. The crowd grumbled at 
this, and one old man was so angry be- 
cause the soldiers did not shoot the sup- 
posed culprit that he tried himself to 
kill him with his stout oaken stick. 



488 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Around the church of La Trinitd the 
fight was especially murderous. Great 

havoc was made among the beautiful 
statues and fountains in the church 
square. The trees were almost hare and 
leafless, the fires stripping everything. 
Our vice-consul, Mr. Alcott, saw from 
his windows much of the combat, and 
describes it as appalling. A priest was 
saved by the regulars from the hands of 
the insurgents, and the poor old man 
was so overjoyed that he kissed the 
whole battalion. 

The barricade on the Place de l'Opera 
was composed of barrels, water-carts, 

and heaps of earth and paving-stones. 
It was so arranged as to command the 
Boulevard des Capucines, the Hues 
Auber and Halevy. This, as well as 
the barricade which closed communica- 
tion between the ( 'haussee d'Antin and 
the boulevard, was valiantly defended 
by the One Hundred and Seventeenth 
Communist battalion. Its guns in some 
measure protected all the network of 
barricades between the grand boulevards 
and the key barrier on the Boulevard 
Malesherbes. and hindered the progress 
of the regular troops about twenty-four 
hours. The fight at this Opera barri- 
cade was very severe, and two officers 
of the Communist battalion, not wishing 
to leave their gnus in the hands of the 
regulars, drew them off themselves, one 
by one, amid a shower of bullets. All 

the Federals were finally forced to retire, 
and then the inhabitants came out and 
welcomed in the regulars, who descended 
by the Bue du Helder. One liner 
mounted to the top of the magnificent 
editiee of the Opera, tore down the red 
flag, and. brandishing the tricolor, placed 
it Anally in the hand of the god Apollo, 
who holds up to the sunlight a golden 
lyre. 

Promenading the streets now became 



extremely dangerous. Strangers were 
treated like Parisians. The National 
Guards of Order were fretting and fum- 
ing, as if anxious for a pretext to kill 
something, and it was unsafe to reason 
with them. One man assured me that 
live thousand insurgents had been shot 
since the troops entered. 1 mildly ex- 
pressed doubts, lie called out at once, 
and tried to collect a crowd about, me, 
lint I left him post-haste. Towards 
evening the shells fell very rapidly in 
the Place de l'Opera, anil a woman who 
was going to the Place Vendome, as a 
prisoner, was struck down by a shell from 
the Buttes Chaumont battery. Wounded 
horses added their screams to the cries 
of the wounded men. The front of the 
building in which the Washington Club 
was located was half torn away. In the 
glare of the flames from the Ministry of 
Finances, as night came on. one could see 
men and women, tied together, and bleed- 
ing from numerous wounds, marched 
along, urged forward by kicks and blows 
from musket-butts into the Place \'eu- 
d6me, where they were immediately shot. 
A number of French and American 
persons (old me the following incident, 
which I defy any one to read without a 
certain emotion. On Thursday a very 
beautiful young girl, taken in the act of 
scattering inflammable matches against 
the houses, was marched down the Rue 
de la Pais to the Place Vendome to 
execution. She seemed quite innocent, 
and answered quite quietly when asked 
what she was doing, and what she had in 
her apron, " Only some kindlings to light 
my lire with." Her beauty, her elastic 
and courageous step, as she marched to 
execution, did not enlist the women in 
her favor. The women were much more 
terrible in their wrath than the men ; but. 
as she turned and faced the crowd with 
flashing eye, and as her long, black hair 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



489 



H 

w 
B 

*0 
SO 
>-> 
GO 

o 

g 



50 
- 
H 

a 

SO 



SO 

o 
o 

SO 




490 



EVROPE IX STORM AM> CALM. 



kepi waving in the breeze, many a strong 
man shed tears. An implacable war of 
the pcior against the rich, carried now 
to the extremity of despair, made the 
3'oung girl march as proudly to the place 
of execution as if her cause had been 
won, and Paris were free. 

The military school on the Champ de 
Mars was a favorite place for execu- 
tions. Few prisoners who wenl in there 
came out alive. As fast as the men and 
women entered the doomed precinct, the 
tramp of a Bring platoon and the dis- 
charge of a number of muskets could 

lie heard. The bodies Were heaped up 
so thai new -cdiners had to climb over 
them in order to stand at the fatal wall. 
The dead n ere dragged afterwards to the 
Champ de Mars into trenches. The 
millions of visitors to the great Exhibi- 
tion of 1878 little thought, as they 
walked on the beautiful green grass of 
the gardens of the Champ de Mars, of 
slaughtered Communists buried below. 
Probably some one who had read Walt 
Whitman's eccentric verses might have 
thought, above the unrecognizable graves, 
of those strange lines: — 



■• Tenderly will I use you, curling grass. 

ti may bo you transpire from the breasts of 

young men ; 
It may be if I had known them I would have 

loved them; 
It may be you are from old people and from 

women, and from offspring taken too scon 

from their mothers' laps. 
They are alive and well somewhere. 
The smallest sprout shows there is really no 

death." 



The history of the burning of Paris 
has been told, both by the Communists, 
who And, in their adroit fashion, a hundred 
apologies for their action, and by the 
moderate Republicans, some of whom, 
like M. Maxime Ducamp, are a trifle 



immoderate in their condemnation. Had 

the regular troops acted with more 
promptness, after their arrival, a great 
number of the principal buildings on the 
left hank of the Seine might have been 
saved from the flames. But the hesita- 
tion of the regular troops is not to be 
wondered at. The spectacle which con- 
fronted them was enough to appall the 
stoutest hearts. The great clouds of 
smoke from the smouldering Hotel de 
Ville and the Tuileries made a sombre 
background to a melancholy picture. At 
all the street corners dead insurgents lay 
thickly, sometimes piled in little heaps. 
Asking the explanation of (his. 1 was 
told that these were men who had escaped 
into the houses, and when found were 
taken into the street and immediately 
executed. No questions even were asked 
them when they wane found w itli weapons 
in their hands or with powder stains on 
(heir ling/as. The bullet sang its shrill 
song, and I hey fell dead. 

it is worthy of remark that in the quar- 
ter of Paris extending from the Hotel 
de Ville to the Bastille, no hostility to the 
Communists was expressed by oon-com- 
batants : elsewhere the complete ferocity 
of the citizens quite surpassed anything 
manifested by the soldiers. In the Rue 
du Temple and in the Rue Vieux du 
Temple, dead men of both the Com- 
munal and regular armies were lying 
about as plentiful as broken boughs in a 
forest through which a great wind had 
passed. 

On this Wednesday evening a friend 
win. walked through the line de Rivoli 
announced that he saw women washing 
off the sidewalk in places where the 
blood had collected in little stagnant 
pools. They sopped up the blood with 
wet rags, and, wringing it out into pails, 
carried it away into the houses. Possibly 
some enterprising speculator proposed 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



4! >1 



to sell or to exhibit the blood of the 
victims of the May revolution. 

Around the Palais Royal, and espe- 
cially in front of the Comedie Francaise, 
the scene was heart-rending. Soldiers 
were digging trenches in the middle of 
the street, and throwing in the dead in- 
surgents. In front of the barricade in 
the Rue Montpensier as many as twenty 
were buried. Amateur grave-diggers, 
boys and men, tumbled back the dirt 
and stamped it clown without a trace of 
emotion on their faces. Nearly at the 
same time some soldiers were skinning 
a horse slain by a shell, and were distribu- 
ting the meat to poor people who begged 
for it. Many members of the working- 
class suffered the pang's of hunger for 
several days during the fight, as the food 
in certain quarters was entirely carried 
off to serve the soldiers who were 
making their way into the heart of the 
insurrection. 

The Ministry of Finance, the noble 
colonnades of which occupied an im- 
mense front on the Rue de Rivoli, was 
fired inside on Tuesday night by a 
delegation appointed expressly for the 
purpose. The archives in the fifth 
story served as kindling, and in a few 
hours the whole street line was in a blaze. 
Hut when the insurgents had evacuated 
the building, and had been compelled to 
fall back from the Place de la Concorde, 
a wine-merchant on the corner attempted 
to organize o service to save what re- 
mained of the edifice. He was shot at, 
and petroleum shells were thrown to in- 
crease the flames. Towards midnight a 
strong, wild wind came up. fanning the 
flames and discouraging hopes of saving 
anything. A few hours later an at- 
tempt was made by a few determined 
men to save the most important papers 
concerning the finances of Paris, and 
the great ledger of the city was brought 



out at the risk of their lives by live em- 
ployes. As there are a large number of 
volumes of this precious book, and these 
were stored in an upper room, a chain of 
soldiers was placed on ladders, and the 
tomes containing the whole statement of 
the city's indebtedness were passed from 
hand to hand, until they reached the 
ground. At last the fire became so hot 
that the proceedings were cut short, and 
a large number of the books were thrown 
helter-skelter into the street, whence 
they were picked up by the inhabitants 
of the quarter and packed in carriages. 

On the Faubourg St. Uonore, one of 
of the most crowded of Parisian thorough- 
fares, the destruction was very great. 
Immense warehouses, establishments de- 
voted to articles of luxury and taste, 
flew skywards in clouds of smoke and jets 
of flame. At the entrance of the street 
nearest the Rue de Rivoli the slaughter 
was tremendous. Piled at the Rivoli 
end of the Rue du Luxembourg, on 
Wednesday morning, were one hundred 
and twenty-five dead bodies, brought 
there from various points. Curious 
throngs were constantly gathered at this 
place, and many arrests were made 
among the spectators for expressing their 
opinions too strongly. Near the corner 
of the Faubourg St. Uonore and the 
Rue Royale a wine-merchant was con- 
fined in his cellar, with his wife and little 
girl, driven thither by the intense heat, 
of the houses burning around about 
them. The fusillade from the barricades 
in the Rue St. Ilonore, and from the 
Madeleine was so severe that he hardly 
dared venture through what was at best 
crumbling and red-hot ruins, to save his 
wife and child in the open air. At last, 
he decided, urged by the screams of the 
child, who was almost literally roasted, 
and. clasping her in his arms. In 1 rushed 
out through the falling walls and under 



492 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



a storm of Imlk'ts. to a passage held by 
a small detachment of government 
troops. As he clamored at the gate for 
entrance, three men pointed their guns 
at him. " Kill me," he cried, u but save 
my child !" The corporal, comprehending 
the situation, rushed forward and took 
the child in his anus: and the wine- 
merchant, returning into the ruins, suc- 
ceeded in rescuing his wife also. A few 
minutes afterwards the house fell in, and 
the cellar in which those people had been 
roasting was filled with live coals. 

The damage in one house in the Rue 
Royale was estimated at 700,000 francs. 
The general staff of the insurgents had a 
grand banquet at a restaurant in this 
street on the night of the entry of the 
regular troops, and they drank confusion 
to M. Thiers in no less than three hundred 
bottles of champagne. In one of the 
houses on the corner of the Rue Royale 
and the Faubourg, those who had hidden 
iu the cellars on the Monday when the 
fight began, to avoid service in the in- 
surgents' ranks, were all suffocated. 
The owner of one of the huge shops 
burned on the Hue Royale was found 
raving in the street on the ruins of his 
fortune. His loss had quite turned his 
brain. It was said that one of the 
fashionable clubs in this street only es- 
caped burning through the sagacity of 
some servants, who gave the soldier 
charged with the firing so much nine that 
he quite forgot his duty. 

There is no doubt that the Communists 
intended to make a complete wreck of 
the Faubourg St. < lermain. Maxime Du- 
camp has left on record a very concise and 
careful narrative of the ruin of the Palace 
of the Legion of Honor, the Count il of 
State, the Cour des Comptes ; and it is 
startling to uote with what coolness 
General Eudes and Megy, the ferocious, 
half-educated workman who became oue 



of the heroes of the Communal party, 
escorted by a quintette of women, went 
from palace to palace sowing destruction 
upon their track. The houses of rich 
refugees were invaded : servants who 
undertook to save the pictures, the rich 
furniture, and the silver plate of their 
masters, were shot down. The " gene- 
rals" and "colonels," excited with 
drink, and half mad with the sense of 
coining danger, issued most extravagant 
decrees. It is even said that Megy 
signed his decrees with the number 
which had been stamped upon his prison 
uniform, as if thus casting defiance in 
the face of the society which had con- 
demned him temporarily to lose his 
citizenship, and to lie reduced to the level 
of a mere numeral. Long wagon-trains, 
filled with barrels of petroleum, were 
ranged in regular order in the court-yards 
of the building's marked for burning ; 
and. as the Communists retreated slowly 
up the left bank of the Seine, living from 
barricade to barricade before the ap- 
proaching vengeance of the bourgeoisie, 
they applied the torch with as much 
earnestness and joy as it' they had been 
sacking an enemy's citadel. The beauti- 
ful pictures of Flandrin and Eugene De- 
lacroix were deluged with mineral oil. 
Barrels of this oil were poured down 
staircases and through corridors, and 
hundreds of thousands of manuscripts 
belonging to the archives, audited ac- 
counts, memoirs of important financial 
transactions, were trampled into the oozy 
mass into which the Communists, in 
their drunken fury, tired their revolvers 
and threw live coals and matches. M. 
Jules Valles, who. after taking a promi- 
nent part in the Commune, escaped, 
published, shortly before the entry of 
the regular troops, in his journal, called 
the "Cri du Peuple," the following state- 
ment : "All measures have been taken 



EUROPE I.V STORM AXD CALM. 



t'.i;; 



to prevent the entry into Paris of any 
inimical soldier. The ramparts may be 
battered down, but no soldiers will get 
into Paris. If M. Thiers is a chemist 
he will quite comprehend us. Let the 
army of Versailles recollect that Paris is 
decided to undertake everything rather 
than surrender." The employment of 



to find Paris a kind of second Rome, 
with ruins on every hand. In fact, the 
Cour des Comptes is almost the only 
remnant of the Communist fury left as 
it was in that dreadful week. It is 
presently to be converted into a museum 
of industrial art. During the Commune 
it was occupied by the delegate of the 




CHILDREN OF THE COMMUNIST PRISONERS EATING SOUP WITH THE VERSAILLES SOLDIERS. 



dynamite had been suggested to the Com- 
mune ; but that powerful political agent 
had not yet attained the celebrity which 
it now possesses, and the incendiaries 
and anarchists of the epoch were obliged 
to resort to petroleum and to the torch. 
It was Tuesday evening when the 
palace of the Council of State and the 
Cour des Comptes was fired. The 
Cour des Comptes has long been a 
place of pilgrimage for the trans-Atlan- 
tic tourists who go abroad expecting 



Council of State, who, only a few days 
before the entry of the regular troops. 
was sent to Marseilles on a revolution- 
ary mission, where he was arrested by 
agents from Versailles. It was thought 
by the regulars that the Council of Stale 
palace was burned by the fifty-seventh, 
sixty-seventh, and one hundred and 
thirty-fifth battalions of insurgents, who 
had occupied it; and therefore wher- 
ever these gentry were found during the 
fight they received no quarter. 



194 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



A woman who went by the name of 
Madame Eudes, the female companion 
of the Communist general, gave numer- 
ous festivals at the Legion of Honor 
palace, which was her comrade's head- 
quarters, (hiring the brief reign of the 
insurrection, and some of these festivals 
are said to have been orgies quite be- 
yond the power of description. Madame 
Eudes was wont to descend into the 
coi nt -yard to shake hands with all the 
soldiers on guard, taking pains to an- 
nounce that they might converse with 
her freely, and might never salute. " I 
am a daughter of the people," she said. 
The Paris journals related that she and 
other women connected with the Com- 
mune had pillaged the wardrobe of the 
beautiful and fashionable Marquise de 
Galliffet, and that they used to appear 
in her dresses ; but this is probably 
untrue. 

Around the palace above mentioned, 
the Hue de Lille was horribly devas- 
tated by shot, shell, and tire. In the 
Faubourg St. Germain one of the noted 
clubs was nearly wrecked by the Ver- 
saillais batteries, playing from Tro- 
eadero. One very singular illustration 
of the damage that can be caused by a 
single bullet occurred in a mansion next 
the Agricultural club. A bullet pierced 
a reservoir in the fifth story which con- 
tained ten thousand litres of water. The 
upper story of the house was inun- 
dated, and thousands of francs' worth 
of furniture injured before the owners 
below knew of tin' small deluge. The 
conflagration in the line du Bac, on the 

left bank of the Seine, was one of the 

most disastrous caused by the despair 
and malice of the insurgents. It is said 
that General Eudes and Megy them- 
selves fired the first houses in this 
quarter, wishing to inaugurate this great 
and formidable attack on property, and 



to have their names handed down in 
history as prim.' mover:; in these 
final tragedies. Whole houses were 
destroyed, gulleys ran up and down 
across the street, and dead bodies lay 
in the doorways and at corners, de- 
caying in the hot sun. Hereabouts, the 
ordinary method of tiring houses was 
by pouring petroleum from the windows 
on the sidewalks, and then hurling down 
burning masses of rags or matches 
into the cellars. The Luxembourg 
palace owed its .safety to the prelimi- 
nary explosion of the powder-magazine, 
established thereby. This frightened 
away a large number of men who were 
sent to lire the ancient home of the 
Medicis. Thenobleand beautiful Sainte 
Chapelle, where old Boileau lies en- 
tombed, miraculously escaped wreck in 
the midst of the ruin of the Palais de 
Justice. The noted prison of the Con- 
eiergerie, so famous in I he old Revolu- 
tion, was badly damaged, but the regu- 
lars came too quickly into this neigh- 
borhood to allow the Complete ac- 
complishment of the Communists' evil 
designs. 

On this fatal day, the 24th of May, 
at the close of which the good Arch- 
bishop and his comrades in misfortune 
were destined to be murdered, the 
official journal of the Commune pub- 
lished an extract, from another radical 
journal, warning the insurrectionists 
again! any violence to the priesthood, 
saying that its only result would be fifty 
years more of clericalism. Put the men 
who might have listened to reason, had 
the regular troops still been without the 
fortifications, thought, now that disaster 
and probable death were at their gates, 
of nothing luit revenge. M. Thiers 
came into Paris on this Wednesday, and 
remained an hour, and it is even said 
that he or Marshal MacMahon, who had 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



49:1 



- 
o 











496 EUROrE IX STORM AND CALM. 

been in Paris since the previous Sunday, principal prisoners were stationed. A 
oughl to have taken more vigorous mcas- short time after this an officer advanced 
nres to have rescued the Archbishop to the Archbishop's cell, and in a low 
from the imminent peril in which he was voice called him by name, 
placed. When the news of the execu- " The prelate answered, ' Present.' 
tion of the hostages was announced in " The officer then passed to the cell of 
the fashionable quarters along the the President Bonjean ; next called the 
grand boulevards, and in the Rue de la Abbe Allard, member of the Interna- 
Pai\. the excitement was very great, tional Society for Aiding the Wounded ; a 
Men went about the street cursing the number of other priests ; the Abbe De- 
insurrection in loud and bitter tones, guerry, curd of the Madeleine. No 
and whenever a prisoner was brought in sooner had each prisoner answered to his 
on his wav to the Place Vcnd6me, they name than he was led through the gallery 

would rush out and strike him with their and down the staircase, and conducted to 

canes. Mr. Washlmrne. our American the Surveillance, on the other side, where 

minister, took constant and careful insurgent guards insulted the prisoners 

measures in the Archbishop's behalf and called them names which 1 cannot 

during the whole of this terrible week, repeat. 

until the fatal Wednesday night. !!<• " They were then taken into the court- 
himself has given a most interesting ac- yard near the infirmary. The Arch- 
count of his visits to the distinguished bishop advanced towards the platoon of 
prelate, and of the fortitude and sweet- execution, which he clearly saw at a 
ness of temper displayed by him in such little distance from him. and, speaking 

,-ire stances of deadly peril. A little very quietly, addressed a few words of 

energv, which had been lacking in France pardon. Two men at once ran up to 

since the creation of the Second Empire, him. and before their comrades, kneeled, 

might have saved the worthy Archbishop imploring his blessing. The other in- 

fr the horrors of a brutal death. The surgents then fell upon them and pushed 

most, remarkable version of the execu- them hack, insulting them. The com- 

tion of the Archbishop and his compan- maudanl in the yard swore a frightful 

ions was given on the authority of a Mr. oath. ' Men,' he said, -you are here to 

Girard, who succeeded in escaping from shoot these people, and not to listen to 

the prison where the prelate had been and howl witli them!' Thi' insurgents 

confined. Hesaid, " Monsigneur Darboy then obeyed the orders to load theirguns. 

occupied cell number twenty-one of the "The Abbe Allard was placed against 

fourth division (this was at the cele- the wall first and fell dead. Monseign- 

brated prison of Mazas), while I was cur Darboy then calmly took his place, 

nllned in number twenty-six. The and fell, almost without a. groan. The 



ei ) 



Archbishop had been allowed a table six prisoners were thus shot, only the 

and a chair.— furniture of which the other Abbe Deguerry showing a moment's 

cells were destitute. On the 24th of feebleness, which must he attributed to 

Mav. at half-past seven in the evening, the state of his health, 

the director of the prison, a certain I.e- " The bodies were at once conveyed in 

francais, who had been six years a gal- a railway van to the cemetery of Pere 

ley slave, came into the prison with fifty La Chaise, where they were placed in 

men, and occupied the gallery where the what is called the 'common ditch; ' and 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



497 



the mangled corpses were left uncovered. 
The platoon of execution was taken 
from the One Hundred and Eighty-first 
and Two Hundred and Sixth Battalions 
of the National Guards, which accounts 
for the ferocity shown by the liners 
against the men of these battalions when 
later on they were .brought in as pris- 
oners." 

Not less brutal and infinitely more 
affecting is the recital of the massacre 
of the Dominican brothers at the prison 
in the Avenue d'ltalie. The story is 
told by the only one of the brethren 
who escaped. These twelve apostles 
of patient, unrequited labor — men 
of excellent intelligence and education 
— had been arrested at a school in 
Paris. The nuns employed as teachers 
in this school were sent to the prison for 
common women, and the brethren to the 
fort of Bicetre, where they were lodged 
in the casemate. They were then 
brought into Paris ; and while being taken 
through the Gobelins quarter they were 
several times threatened with death by 
the populace, but were finally brought to 
the above-mentioned prison. About 
two o'clock on Thursday, as they were 
praying together, an officer entered and 
said grossly, ''Surplices, forward! you 
are to be conducted to the barricades." 
They followed mutely, and found at the 
barricade such an intense fire that the 
inhabitants abandoned it, taking back 
their victims with them. About an 
hour afterwards they were again sum- 
moned to the street, and here an officer 
of the One Hundred and First Battalion 
ordered his men to load their muskets, 
and then came the cry: " Enter the 
street one by one ! " 

They knew this was their death-war- 
rant, and therefore took adieu of each 
other. "Come, brethren," said the 
father prior, " come to the good God ! " 



and he went out, shutting the door after 
him. A shot was heard, and the next 
brother who went out saw, as he felt the 
fatal bullet, the venerable prior bathed 
in blood. The brother who escaped 
only succeeded by simulating death, a 
bullet having grazed him, and he laid 
quietly among the slain until the execu- 
tioners had gone away, when he ran 
into a side street, where a charitable 
woman concealed him until the arrival 
of the Versailles troops. 

On the Tuesday after the entry of the 
regulars, the two hundred other host- 
ages confined in Mazas prison were 
taken to La Roquette, known as the 
prison of the condemned. On the fol- 
lowing day seventy-four were shot, and 
out of two hundred and four gendarmes 
confined in other prisons, one hundred 
and sixty-nine had been designated for 
execution. On Thursday the Versailles 
troops arrived just in time to save them. 
It will be seen from this that it is not 
too much to say that the Commune, at 
its close, was on the verge of inaugurat- 
ing a reign of terror. 

It is but justice to add that all the 
high military officers of the Commune — 
all who merited the name of officer — 
considered the arrest of the priests as 
an outrage, and understood how com- 
pletely the damning violence used 
against these good men would react 
upon the insurrection. General Clu- 
seret had especially incurred the Com- 
munists' displeasure because of his 
intervention in the cause of the Arch- 
bishop. It was frequently said during 
the insurrection that the Communists 
intended to take and hold the corre- 
spondents of foreign journals resident in 
Paris as hostages, and M. Miot, a pict- 
uresque figure in the Communal as- 
sembly, once actually proposed this 
measure. Whether the Communists 



198 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

imagined that by this they could control journalist was shot on the evening of 
opinion may now never be known. The the -J 1th of May, Raoul Rigault stand- 
murder of Gustave Chaudej - , one of the ing by the executing plati with a 

editors of the "Steele," who had been drawn sword, and cursing the men be- 
held as a hostage, seems to have been cause they did not do their work more 
actuated by a desire for vengeance on rapidly. 

the part of Raoul Rigault, the celebrated The military operations of the govern- 

Communist chief of police. Chaudey ment in l'aris lasted exactly seven days, 

was confined at St. Pelagie, the old Im- hour lor hour. The entry of the first 

penal prison for j nalists and political troops was effected on the afternoon of 

offenders, and his friend, Cernusebi, the Sunday, May 21st, at. four o'clock. On 

noted Italian, who has adopted Paris as that eventful day they were traversing 

his home, came very near to violent the bridge at the Point da Jour, and at 

death himself at the hands of the en- four o'clock on Sunday, May the 28th, the 

raged soldiery when he went to intercede last insurgent barricade at Belleville was 

for Chaudev's life. The unfortunate taken. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



199 



CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE. 



The New Fight of the Bastille. 



-The Hotel ile Villi-. — The I'ieturesquc ami Ihamalir Episodes of the 
Great Battles. 



THE red flag fluttered at the top of 
the column in the Place de la Bas- 
tille until late Saturday afternoon. Mer- 
cury, who seemed springing lightly from 
his elevated perch, up and away from 
bloodshed and burning, held the ban- 
ner, which could be distinctly seen 
from many points in the centre of the 
city, while the fight was still raging 
around the site of the old Bastille. 

Once driven from the barricades around 
the Hdtel de Ville, the insurgents made 
up their mind to a desperate stand iu 
the quarters of the city where the in- 
surrection was born. No one attempted 
to revive the historic ferocity of the 
Faubourg Saint Antoine ; not even the 
feeblest resistance was made there. 
Belleville, the Buttes Chaumont and the 
cemetery of Pere La Chaise wen- selected 
as the localities in which to make the 
last effort. The people of La Villette had 
been driven nearly to desperation during 
the third and fouroh days of the fight, 
by the return upon them of the beaten 
insurgents from Montmartre and its 
environs, and the determined efforts of 
the troops to dislodge them. Many 
houses at La Villette were burned, and 
dozens of innocent people lost their 
lives by .shot and shell coming from the 
batteries and barricades of both com- 
batants. On Wednesday the shells from 
Montmartre did terrible execution at 
Belleville ; but the Communists, feeling 
strong in the knowledge that the bar- 
ricades of the Chateau-d' Eau were still 



held, refused to retreat, although en- 
treated by hundreds of families, who 
saw almost imminent death before them. 
Suspicion began, however, to do its terri- 
ble work among the Bellevillians, and 
the officers found every morning that 
sonic man bad been shot by his com- 
rades for having ostensibly aided the 
enemy. On Thursday, an artilleryman 
came to a battery at a little distance 
from his own, and pointed a gun or two. 
lb- was immediately arrested and shot, 
the men who did the deed insisting that 
he was a Yersaillais in disguise. On 
this same day, also, quite an expedition 
was organized with the hope of retaking 
Montmartre, but the men finally refused, 
considering it certain death, and that 
their principal duty was to " defend their 
hearthstones." On Friday there was a 
grand procession of priests going to 
execution through Belleville — a species 
of parody of the great triumphal rides 
to the guillotine of '93. There were 
twelve priests and a few gendarmes, say 
the eye-witnesses, and the unfortunate 
hostages were shot in the Rue Haxo, 
with quite a crowd looking on. Friday 
night, the terror which had electrified the 
aristocratic quarters on Tuesday and 
Wednesday bad spread to Belleville, 
and the Grand Docks, or Custom House 
of Paris, was in flames. The file spread 
rapidly to the borders of the grand canal, 
on which the docks are situated, and 
whole magazines, filled with oil and other 
combustibles, went up in sheets of yellow 



500 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Same. Toward midnight, large detach- 
ments of Communists arrived on the 
scene of the conflagration. Few such 
miserable and heart-rending processions 
have ever been seen on the pavements of 
Paris. Haggard, worn, frightened at 
the death only a few hours distant, dirty, 
hungry, and many of them drunk, the 
officers found it difficult to rally the men 
to retreat. "Let us lie down and die," 
said they; and many pref erred to remain 
and "see the people's vengeance exe- 
cuted," meaning the fires. 

The defense of the approaches to the 
Bastille was very thorough and strongly 
kept up. Barricades at the entrance of 
the Boulevard de Strasbourg had been 
taken by the regulars, but the insurgents 
had intrenched themselves in the Eastern 
Railway station, at the head of that 
boulevard, and made a terrible tight. 
When they were at last dislodged, it was 
at the cost of much life on both sides. 
At the Chateau d'Eau the resistance took 
on tremendous proportions, owing to the 
presence of some of the leaders of the 
Commune and the desperation of the 
insurgents as point after point was swept 
away. They had established powerful 
batteries in this grand square, which has 
in it one of the largest barracks in Paris, 
ami a huge structure known as the con- 
solidated shops, which was partially 
burnt during the fight. The boulevards 
from the Chateau d'Eau down to the Pile 
Royale showed how fierce was the 
shower of missiles that the insurgents 
sent. Trees were mown down, lamp- 
posts cut short off, fronts of houses taken 
out, whole roofs sunk in, statues disem- 
bowelled, and caf&S gutted. 1 was at 
the barricade of the Porte St. Denis, 
held by the government troops, on 
Thursday afternoon, at four o'clock, and 
the insurgents were then throwing boltes 
if mitraitte (shells containing an hundred 



bullets) in such profusion that I con- 
sidered it prudent to retire. The barri- 
cade built across the boulevards at the 
Porte St. Martin Theatre was one of 
the strongest erected, but on Wednes- 
day night, when the cannonade had 
weakened the defenses, the Communist 
leaders gave orders for the burning of 
the quarter, and the celebrated theatre 
of the Porte St. Martin, and many other 
noted mansions near it, were burned 
to the ground. The tight continued 
through the night at the Chateau d'Eau, 
and on Thursday morning the unfortu- 
nate defenders heard that the Pantheon 
had been taken after a desperate struggle ; 
that tin' Gobelins had been surrendered, 
and thata strong column was now operat- 
ing in that remote quarter of Paris, 
covering the ground with corpses, and 
shutting up one of the most effectual 
avenues of escape. The foils of Bicetre 
and Ivry, which the Communists had 
boasted of as final strongholds, were 
thus taken out of the insurgent hands, 
and the garrisons were called upon to 
surrender at discretion. Picctre's com- 
mander refused, and the fort was taken 
by assault; while General Wrobleski, 
after submitting to a desperate bombard- 
ment, blew up his powder magazine, and 
then surrendered six thousand men into 
the hands of those from whom they could 
expect no mercy. 

It would hardly serve the purpose of 
this narrative to recount fully the ma- 
noeuvres by which the whole of the left 
bank of the Seine was finally, on Thurs- 
day, put into the possession of the gov- 
ernment troops. The tragic interest 
deepens with startling intensity from the 
moment when the Hotel de Yille, a 
flaming ruin, was surrounded on three 
sides by the regulars. Thenceforward, 
the history of the Commune's resistance 
is tilled with nothing save disaster, which 



EUROPE IN STORM A XT) CALM. 



501 



Followed fast ami followed faster," 

until the sullen culmination. 

The H6tel de Ville was then encom- 
passed thus: Towards the Seine, the 
corps of General Cissej' had carried 
the barricades of the Pout Neuf and 
taken possession of the island and the 
cathedral of Ndtre Dame , ou the right, 



of Marshal MacMahon would have 
triumphed; the insurgents would lie 
crowded back into the narrow tract of 
the Buttes Chaumont and Pere la Chaise, 
and would lie crushed between the Prus- 
sians and the converging effort of the 
whole regular army. 

The Chateau d'Kau was, therefore, the 
last point of central resistance. The 




BURNING OF TIIE IlftTEL DE VILLE. 



the troops had attacked a barricade 
defended well for a time at the Poiute 
St. Eustache, and after encountering a 
frightful resistance, had carried it; and 
the middle column, coming straight tow- 
ard the late stronghold of rebellion, had 
already passed the Louvre. 

Nothing was left, then, for the insur- 
gents but to make their grand, bold stand 
at the Chateau d'Eau. Once lost there, 
they knew that the military movements 



regulars did not hesitate to call it the 
" Key to Belleville." 

On Thursday the approaches of the 
regular army may lie resumed as fol- 
lows: The corps of Generals Clinch- 
ant and Douay rallied by the boulevards 
of Magenta, St. Denis, and St. Martin, 
and from the Temple quarter. On the 
left wing, Ladmirault's corps operated 
against La Chapelle and LaVillette, and 
General Vinoy, crossing the Seine with 



r.02 



EUROPE IS STORM AXD CALM. 



his men, w:is creeping towards the lias- 
tille, quite in the rear of lli" Ch&teau 
d'Eau. 

All around the gigantic square, and in 
it. the carnage was fearful. Thursday 
afternoon and evening the struggle cul- 
minated. On the barricade, Friday 
morning, amid a heap of twenty or thirty 
other corpses, the body of Delescluze 
was pointed out. He was dressed in 
simple morning costume, with polished 
boots and beaver hat, and had evidently 
prepared himself with care, thinking that 
he would be captured. He was killed 
at the barricade, while urging on his men 
to a more energetic resistance. The 
ball, which struck him in the forehead, 
killed him instantly. Delescluze seems 
never to have made any attempt to go 
away. He intended to die at his post, 
and did so. For days before he was 
compelled to flee from the Ministry of 
War he hardly ever quitted his work- 

r ii. He threw himself on a mattress 

which laid upon the floor near his work- 
table, and took little naps of half an 
hour's duration, then cast himself again 
with fury on his task. His counte- 
nance in death bole a painful expres- 
sion of mute despair. He was an old 
111:111. who had been roughly used in the 
world, whose kindness had been turned 
to bitterness by exile, and whose health 
had been completely broken by mental 
and physical suffering. His men seem 
to have made no effort to remove 
his body, and the regulars found it 
Friday morning. Delescluze was iden- 
tified by the fact that a very peculiar 
cane, which he was known to have car- 
ried twenty years, was grasped in the 
dead man's stiffened hand. On his per- 
son were found a large number of letters, 
some of which were from women, warn- 
ing him that he ran risk of being poi- 
soned, etc. There were also among his 



papers a number of orders, of which the 
following is a lair specimen : — 

Citizen Milliere, at the head of one hun- 
dred and fifty fuseens, will burn the suspected 
houses ami all the public monuments on the 
right bank of the Seine. 

Citizen Vesinier, with fifty men, is specially 
charged with the boulevards from the Made- 
leine ti> the Bastille. 

These citizens must arrange with the chiefs 
of the barricades fur the execution of the 
orders. 

Talis, 3 l'rairial, An 711. 

This order is signed by Delescluze, 
Rainier. Vesinier, Brunei, and Dombrow- 
ski. Others concern the burning of 
houses from which people might have 
been seen firing upon the barricades. 

The bodies were strewn so thickly 
about tli- square of the Chateau d'Eau 
that on Sunday, three days after the 
capture of the locality, many corpses 
were still lying under the branches of 
trees, which had been strewn to impede 
the enemy's progress. Severe hand-to- 
hand fighting occurred at the Porte St. 
Martin, or not far from the square, on 
this Thursday. One young man, who 
had ensconced himself in a sort of re- 
cess in the arch, from whence, high 
above the crowd, he could lire at his lei- 
sure upon il. remained in his perch after 
his companions had retreated, and killed 
half-a-dozen soldiers before the regulars 
succeeded ill getting up where they could 
shoot him. The insurgents piled their 
dead bodies in veritable revolutionary 
Style on tin' barricades; and when the 
tremendous artillery duel of Thursday 
night was over, the spectacle was siek- 
ening. Cluseret was said to have been 
shot on Thursday evening, in the retreat 
from the barricades of the Porte St. 
Martin ; but he mysteriously made his 
appearance ai the apartment of an old 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



503 



and neutral friend on that day, sub- 
sequently escaped from the walls of 
Paris, and now lives in Constantinople. 
A friend of mine, on whom he called, 
told me that, finding nothing could be 
done in that quarter for his safety, Clu- 



serel rose coolly, gave a pleasant smile 
and hand-shake, and marched down the 
staircase as if going to breakfast, al- 
though his life would not have been 
•worth a rush if any one had chanced to 
recognize him outside the house. 



504 



EURUVE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR. 



The Retreat from the Chateau d'Eau. — Ruins of the Hotel de Ville. — The Burning of Important Papers. 
— Piquet. — The Third Period of the Great Seven Days' Fight. — Atthe Buttcs Chaumont. 



THE regulars took sixty mitrailleuses 
at the Chateau d' Kan, and con- 
veyed them to the Place de la Bourse, 
where they were proudly exhibited as 
conquered anus. The cannon which 
the insurgents employed during the 
thirty-six hours of their defence at this 
point did fearful execution on the houses 
at the Porte Saint-Martin side. Dozens 
of Communists hid in houses along the 
square during the retreat, and were 
ferreted out and shot as fast as found. 
The great fountain in the middle of the 
square was filled with petroleum, and a 
solid shot had knocked one of the gigan- 
tic bronze lions into the oily pool. The 
cross Are under which the regular troops 
had to traverse the place was horrible. 
Many a red breeches was killed in the 
march over the scattered houghs. 

The fight had continued up the grand 
Boulevard Sebastopol till day Thursday, 
ami dow u the Boulevard Magenta front 
the church of Saint-Laurent, so recently 
made famous by the pretended discovery 
of skeletons of voting girls there. Can- 
non from all sides poured shot and 
shell into the retreating insurgents, and, 
plunging through the roofs of houses, 

murdered people, who asked nothing 
better than to lly from the scene of such 
horrors. Many cilizeiis actually died 
from fright during the combat. The 
most reliable accounts say that some 
starved to death in the cellars to which 
they were driven by fear of the shells; 
and sometimes the harmless occupants 



of some of these cellars would be startled 
by the inroad of excited soldiers, seeking 
an antagonist who had taken refuge in 
the house'. A word, a retort in such a 
case, was enough to procure for one's 
self a speedy execution, with one's face 
turned to the wall of his own house. 

Friday morning the retreat from the 
Chateau d' Fan was consummated. The 
army's task was now comparatively easy. 
It consisted in surrounding the insur- 
gents at the extreme end of the city, at 
a point where they could not hope to 
escape front the walls, and forcing them 
to unconditional surrender. 

Friday morning the same unvarying 
sunshine; the same thunder of cannon ; 
terrorism concerning incendiaries, and 
the red Hag .still Hying from the Pastille 
column. 

The Hotel de Ville was a lovely ruin. 
Four essentially popular ami successful 
governments have been installed then'. 
The first was the "Commune" of the 
last century, which, majestic ami fero- 
cious, occupied the halls from the Kith 
of August. 1792, to the 27th of July. 
1793. The second was the Provisional 
government of '48, from February 24 to 
May I. The third was the government of 
National Defense, which, founded on the 
ruins of the Second Empire, dragged 
out a shifty existence in a time of siege 
and starvation ; and the fourth was the 
last Commune of Paris, which violently 
took possession of the Hotel on the Kith 
of March, 1871, and left the edifice in 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



505 



flames on the 23d of May. This 
great Communal monument owes the 
placing of its corner-stone to the pro- 
vost of merchants under Francis I. 
The ceremony occurred on the 15th 
of July, 1533, and the ground had 
then but just been cleared of the ruins 
of the famous Maison aux Fibers, which 
dated among the most ancient buildings 
of the city. Dominique Baecaro was 
the architect who designed the pristine 
form of the structure, and Jean Asselin, 
"Master of Public Works to the City," 
was charged with the execution. In 
1550 only one story was completed, and, 
strangely enough, the civil wars which 
then desolated France were the main 
cause of a delay which little pleased the 
architects. Finally, in 1005, new minds 
modified the long-neglected designs, and 
the Hotel gradually took form. Two 
centuries after, in 1801, the church-hos- 
pital of the Holy Spirit, and the Com- 
munion of the Church of St. John 
were consolidated with the Hotel de Yille 
edifice, and thirty years after the work 
of demolishing all the houses in the 
immediate vicinity was undertaken. It 
lasted live years, and the result was one 
of the finest architectural effects in Paris. 
Napoleon III. increased this effect by 
widening the space, and by making the 
modern buildings around the ornate and 
romantic old Hotel of an extreme sim- 
plicity. The interior of the building was 
much more richly ornate than are any of 
the Gallic palaces. Each chief of the 
Parisian municipality had for centuries 
devoted his attention to enriching the 
various halls with memorials of his time. 
Painting, sculpture, and furniture here 
all spoke the languages of an hundred 
previous decades and thousands of indi- 
vidual tastes. The arms of Paris — a 
galley floating — with the legend Flnc- 
tuat nee mergitur, were, it is supposed, 



carried away before the flames broke out 
in the Hotel de Mile. Possibly, how- 
ever, the Communists preferred to have 
even that precious memento destroyed, 
because it had a taint of Csesarism. 

Iu this building, so many years ago 
that only great troubles cause the re- 
membrance of it, Mirabeau stood up and 
said, " I consider the National Guard of 
Paris an obstacle to the reestablishnient 
of order. Most of its chiefs are mem- 
bers of the Jacobins, and, carrying the 
principles of that Society among their 
soldiers, they teach them to obey the 
people as the prime authority. These 
troops are too numerous to take any 
esprit tie corps; too wedded to the citi- 
zens to allow the least latitude to royal 
authority ; too feeble to oppose a grand 
insurrection ; and too facile to corrupt, 
not en masse, but individually, not to lie 
an instrument always at, the will of the 
factions." 

What Mirabeau said then was strictly 
true of the National Guard which 
Father Thiers decided to dissolve. The 
HOtel de Yille in ruins ; the National 
Guard dissolved and disarmed ; the 
Communal Committee of Public Safety 
dispersed or dead ; the generals of the 
guards lying on hospital stretchers or 
heaps of corpses; the final, grand, 
desperate effort of the people shaping 
itself in the "eccentric quarters." All 

was, indeed, over. 

That same day, after the fight had 
begun at Belleville, a captain of regu- 
lars, after having, with his men, con- 
quered a barricade, found one of the 
many prisoners who were to he shot ap- 
pealing to him. '• Listen, captain !" 
said he : " I have a watch in my pocket 
which belongs to the concierge across the 
way. He gave it to me for safe-keeping 
several days ago. Let me return it lie- 
fore I die ! " 



506 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



The captain had before him a little 
black-eyed lad of fifteen, erect, and 
evidently not afraid. He thought the 
poor child desired :i pretext for escape, 
and, tired of his bloody work, he said : 
•• res, begone, little scoundrel!" 

Bui just as the captain and his platoon 
of executioners had taken the lives of 
the other prisoners, the lad came back, 
running, placed himself before the 
bloody wall, and said, "Here I am — 
ready ! " 

No soldiers would fire at him, and the 
captain once more dismissed him, tears 
standing in eyes, which opened wide at 
such exhibition of nobility of character. 

Promenading among the ruins of 
Wednesday and Thursday was not es- 
pecially safe, but productive of much 
revery. One remembered the great re- 
view that took place before the Hotel de 
Ville a month before, and the grand old 
face of the enthusiastic Miot (the pa- 
triarch of the Commune) inspiriting the 
soldiers. How the songs rang', how the 
old man and his comrades embraced the 
officers, and how the columns marched 
away into black annihilation and the 
execrations of the mobs of bourgeois 
and the commercial people of Paris! 

One of the remarkable men of this 
great insurrection was Napias-Piquet, 
formerly a barrister at Troves, and, at 
the opening of the Commune drama, 
perhaps fifty-five years old. lie was 
tall, handsome, with sparkling eyes, and 
an intense vivacity of manner which 
only the foreigner who has lived in 
France can understand. Piquet was 
placed in the delicate and dangerous 
position of Mayor at Passy, during the 
latter days of the insurrection. He 
had, however, not only power there, but 
was of much weight in tin 1 Commune 
councils. To him was largely due the 
financial promptness of the insurrection- 



ary leaders. He could find money, by 
legitimate or violent means, when no 
one else could. The " delegate to the 
Ministry of Finances," Jourde, only 
obeyed Piquet. He was also extremely 
violent in his desires for an attack on 
property, and had formed the plan of 
burning all the papers of the various 
credit societies, the notaries, and the 
great corporations, that the Paris world 
might start anew. He desired to level 
everything, believing that the iniquities 
of society arose from the unequal dis- 
tribution of property and the tyrannies 
connected with the manipulation of large 
capital. 

One day. almost immediately after his 
plan for burning all these immensely 
valuable papers had been mentioned in 
the Commune, a well - known French 
gentleman, having no sympathy with the 
insurrection, but to whom Piquet was 
deeply indebted for past services, went 
to sec the fiery attacker of property. 
He was accompanied by an American, 
to give character to his visit, which he 
feared might result in his arrest and in- 
carceration as an hostage. Piquet re- 
ceived him with the most friendly cor- 
diality, and after the gentleman had 
broached the delicate subject, the Com- 
munist said : 

•' Yes, we intend to burn every paper in 
every important business establishment, 
public and private, all archives, and 
every record which has any value to the 
rich and those who have been powerful." 

But here tin' Frenchman delicately in- 
terposed the thought that the Commune 
would do much better to carefully put 
its seals upon all buildings containing 
these papers, and to preserve the records 
of the iniquities of property-holders and 
corporations, and then to publish to the 
world in future pamphlets all the docu- 
mentary evidence of what he (Piquet) 



EUROPE IX STURM AND CALM. 



507 



asserted. To this the Socialist did not 
desire at first to listen, but he finally 
said he would consider it, and next day 
seals were placed on all offices of nota- 
ries, corporations, public and private, 
etc. 

Then came the crushing stroke of 
MacMahon's entry, ami the Frenchman 
who had reasoned with Piquet hail, by a 
little stroke of finesse, saved to Paris 
the destruction of papers involving in- 
terests of thousands of millions of 
francs. Had he attempted to threaten 
Piquet, he would have inclined the 
greatest danger ; lint he simply persuaded 
him to procrastination. 

Piquet was among the first to fall un- 
der the bullets of the Versailles soldiery. 
His loss was one of the great discour- 
agements for those who proposed to 
continue the desperate struggle. 

The burning of the Palace of Justice, 
on the < Jim i de I'Horloge, was the sequel 
to the destruction of the Prefecture of 
Police. The latter edifice had been pre- 
pared for burning on the very first days 
that thi' Commune came into power, as 
not a member of the insurrection in- 
tended that the ancient Imperial inquisi- 
tion should have any place to repose 
when it came back. On Wednesday 
night, the 24th, when the regulars were 
rapidly coming towards them, the dele- 
gate Ferr4 was busily engaged in dis- 
tributing money to be carried to the 
defenders of the barricades, when the 
news came that he must fly. Rigault, 
the prefect, was wandering about the 
prisons, choosing victims on whom to 
retaliate for the indiscriminate shooting 
of the Communist prisoners. Fern'', 
before leaving, took down his book of 
prisoners. First on the list was the 
name of one condemned to death ac- 
cused of having given money lor illegiti- 
mate purposes to certain members of 



the National Guard. The other prison- 
ers were released, but Yaisset, the con- 
demned, was shot at the foot of the 
statue of Henry IV., and his body 
was thrown into the Seine. The Pre- 
fecture was then tired, and certain loud 
explosions showed that the insurgents 
intended the work to be thorough. The 
'• Sainte-Chapelle," which had been 
especially marked for vengeance, re- 
mained absolutely untouched, and still 
stands, revealed in the beauty which had 
long been concealed in the quaint courts 
of the Palace of Justice. 

The third period of the great seven 
days' tight in Paris properly begins with 
the afternoon of Friday, May 26th, and 
ends at four o'clock on the afternoon of 
Sunday, the 28th. During that time 
several hundred prisoners were executed, 
the majority of them without trial, and at 
least ten thousand were marched through 
the streets of the city, followed by how- 
ling mobs, en route for Versailles. General 
Vinoy, who commanded the reserve 
forces, had, while the tremendous strug- 
gle at the Chateau d'Eau was in progress, 
made his way with but little lighting into 
the Faubourg St. Antoine. Iuasmuchas 
the active forces got to Belleville much 
sooner than General Vinoy had antici- 
pated, he suddenly found himself in a 
very important part of the action, and 
cooperated with much energy, uniting on 
the Seine the corps of General Douay and 
General Cissey. After the taking of the 
HOtel de Ville, he was in the first line; 
and while General Douay was striving to 
occupy the boulevards from the Chateau 
d'Eau to the Bastille, Vinoy was preparing 
to attack the insurgents in think. I have 
already described the burning of various 
important public buildings at Belleville as 
the insurgents retreated, but this in no 
way checked the progress of the regulars, 
who. on Thursday afternoon and evening, 



, r )()8 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



were vigorously attacking the rebel line 
of defense on the Lyons and'Yineenncs 
railways, and who finally carried, with 
small loss, the barricade under the grand 
viaduct on the Boulevard de Mazas. 
The insurgents attempted to burn the 
Lyons railway station during their retreat, 
but failed. 

The Place de la Bastille had always 
been considered by the Communists as 
one of their principal strongholds. Its 
position is naturally good for defense, 
and was exceptionally strengthened by 
barricades on all the avenues which led 
up to the grand " Column of duly," such 
as the Boulevard Beaumarchais, the Rue 
»St. Antoine, and the three now cele- 
brated streets, Rues de Charenton, du 
Faubourg du Temple, and de la Roquette. 
In these important commercial highways 
occurred one of the most sanguinary 
combats in the records of street fighting. 
The insurgents, driven to despair, made 
a fortress of every house and fought 
from its windows, until the invading 
soldiery came to kill them and throw 

their mutilated bodies into the streets. 
Although the barricades at each entrance 
of the three streets were continually 
tottering under the fearful shocks of the 
solid shot from the regulars' cannon, 
they were rebuill hour by hour, and a 
Gavroche of '71 was always found to 
replant the red flag high over the paving- 
Stones as often as an ail ful sharp-shooter 
brought it down. Finally, the troops 
"turned" tin 1 barricades, invading on 
the east the Faubourg St. Antoine, 
ami those unfortunates who had been 
flying from the Chateau d'Eau found 
themselves in the midst of a new deroute, 
than which nothing could be more com- 
plete. On what has been named the 
Charenton barricade, one hundred and 
live corpses were found. Many were 
those of old men poorly dressed ; and 



in this quarter the people had evi- 
dently taken hold in earnest, for very 
few of the combatants wore any uni- 
forms. Not far from this scene of 
slaughter stands the historic house where, 
in 1848, the most decided resistance in 
Paris was made. The old mansion still 
bears marks of these terrible cannon- 
ades, and its second baptism of fire has 
made the inmates unwilling to rest 
within its shaky walls. The streets 
here, as elsewhere, had the appearance 
of a battle-field ; and the corpses of men 
and women lay neglected for two days. 
General Vinoy quietly continued worm- 
ing his way from the Place du Trdne 
until Friday, when he came upon a knot 
of barricades on the Boulevards Prince 
Eugene, Philippe-Auguste, and de 
Charonne. Here was a handful of brave 
men who reasoned against Fate, and 
persisted in supposing that their fellows 
were gaining ground in the centre of 
tin' city. They were carried on Friday 
evening. The defenders were put to 
death, and some of the houses near at 
hand were burned. General Vinoy 
camped that night, under a raking fire, 
at the foot of the green anil lovely hills 
which bear within their immemorial 
breasts the most celebrated dead of Paris, 
— he was before Pere La Chaise. 

At this celebrated cemetery, and the 
Buttes Chauinont, the superb park for 
whose beauty Napoleon III. did so 
much, the insurrectionists made their 
last stand within the town. 

The most reliable accounts admit that 
thirty thousand men. women, anil chil- 
dren, who had been directly engaged in 
the fighting at Belleville, were finally 
surrounded in the cemetery, and hun- 
dreds of these were massacred. I fre- 
quently heard well-to-do people, with 
whom I am personally acquainted, say 
that they hoped that not one of the thirty 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



509 



thousand would escape alive. The bat- 
teries of the insurgents, placed on a high 
slope in the middle of the cemetery, com- 
manded the Opera quarter, and had been 
firing sharply at every place whence 
smoke and flame issued for the past two 
days. On Friday the artillerymen di- 
rected their attention to the assistance 
of their brethren in the Faubourg du 
Temple, and stray shells came whizzing 
into the Central Markets. The " great dam- 
age done by these shells to property" is a 
figment of aristocratic imagination ; even 
the respectable Paris journals admit that 
they lit but few fires. They wounded and 
killed, however, a great many inoffensive 
citizens. The Communists had made an 
immense collection of ammunition at 
Belleville, and having at their command 
about two hundred cannons, large and 
small, at first disdained the very correct 
fire which was penned into their batteries 
from Montmartre heights, only three 
thousand five hundred yards distant. As 
fast as cannon were dismounted, fresh 
ones were brought up, until the marines 
on Montmartre wrung their hands and 
swore that the Devil was aiding the an- 
tagonists on the Buttes. 

Friday evening. Paris, which, say the 
Prussians, had been completely envel- 
oped in smoke for the three previous 
days, was illuminated by a vast con- 
flagration, which set the whole anguish- 
stricken city out in bold relief against a 
frowning and angry sky. All the in- 
habitants of tlie suburban towns at once 
imagined that the final coup had arrived, 
and that the insurgents had fired the 
whole town. Hence the wildness of the 
reports which reached England and 
America on Saturday and Sunday. 

The final attack was ready. While 
old General Vinoy took fitful rest in his 
dangerous quarters, General Ladini- 
rault had executed a movement similar 



to that which brought Vinoy to Fere La 
Chaise, and the two army corps were 
simultaneously in position in the rear of 
Pere La Chaise and the rear of the 
Iluttes Chaumont. The troops of Lad- 
mirault's corps came out on the Place de 
la Rotonde, the central position of La 
Villette, having arrived by the Rue de 
La Fayette anil the Boulevard de la 
Chapelle. The insurgents, turned to the 
left after a vigorous defense, retired to 
the Docks ; — then came the conflagration 
of Friday evening. 

On .Saturday morning the Communists 
found themselves shut in to Belleville 
in a semicircle, the two extremities of 
which leaned on the ramparts, and the 
bend of which followed the boulevards 
from the Bastille to the Chateau d'Eau, 
and extended along the grand canal from 
the Faubourg du Temple to the Place de 
la Villette. It rained ; men were tram- 
pled into the mud by others advancing; 
the dead were horrible to contemplate. 

At the left, on theButtes Chaumont, the 
observer, with a good field-glass, could 
sei' a garden, the surface of which had 
been ploughed by descending fragments 
of shell. At the foot of a tall tree, 
whose branches were stripped, was a gi- 
gantic battery. Men, bare-headed and 
in their shirt-sleeves, were serving it. 
Every two minutes the battery spoke in 
thunder tones. Looking from the bluff 
towards the great double-spired church 
of Belleville, and beyond the Menilmon- 
tant quarter, one could see, at the right, 
a vast bank of verdure, — Pere La 
Chaise. Flashes at the foot of a huge 
monument showed the position of the 
insurgent battery there. A retreating 
battle-line, following the canal by La 
Roquette, the Boulevard Richard Lenoir, 
and the Boulevard de la Villette, showed 
the progress of the attack. 

General Douay was crushing out the 



, r >10 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

last fragmentary resistance in the Fan- ness, the regulars charged into the bat- 

bonrg (In Temple; General Clinchant teries, and a massacre of fugitives began. 

was subduing all the barricades barring Ladmirault meantime obtained La Yil- 

approach to the canal. lette completely, and the next morniug 

At the point where the Boulevard the artillery officers of the Versailles 
Richard Lenoir intersects with that of army were curiously examining the can- 
Prince Eugene was a gun barricade, nun in the Buttes Chaumont battery. 
solidly built, with ditches and embra- Belleville was burning in a hundred 
sines. It was so protected by barricades places; one could hardly walk forty 

in the adjacenl streets that the regulars yards without seeing t\v - three 

were compelled to relinquish attacks in corpses; and the dismal processions of 
front, and, going up by the Bastille, and bare-headed condemned, marching away 
brushing away smaller obstacles, sur- to he shot, were met everywhere. On 
round the gigautic work, pouring a heavy that Sunday morning, fatal to the Corn- 
lire upon it from all sides. When, after mime, a few insurgents who had been 
some hours, the insurgents abandoned it, passed by in the Faubourg dn Temple 
making a desperate run for life through and the Rue d'Angouleme still held out ; 
one unlooked-for avenue of escape, the but in the afternoon, at two o'clock, 
whole section for a quarter of a mile silence was complete. At five P.M. 
around was in ruins. On the blood- Marshal MacMahon announced to Paris. 
spattered stones lay corpses blackened in a brief proclamation, that the insur- 
with powder, clothes covered with gore rection was quelled. 

torn oil' from fever-wild frames by dying Twenty thousand prisoners were taken 

men in their agony, broken ^uns and during the last three days. 

fragments of an exploded caisson and Sunday morning dawned gloriously, 

its contents, half-a-dozen disembowelled and the unwonted tranquillity had in it a 

horses; and the earth, says an eye-wit- sense of blessedness. Cavaliers, many 

ness, was in little clots, which could only mounted on the horses which so lately 

have been produced by a generous ail- had been ridden by the officers of the 

mixture of blood. Commune, galloped gayly everywhere. 

All Saturday afternoon shells rained Officers sauntered arm-in-arm under the 
upon Belleville, around and above the trees, which showed so many marks of 
church, and the horizon was enveloped violence, or seated themselves under the 
in enormous clouds of smoke. The in- cafi awnings and sipped coffee, handed 
surgents, who were cannonless, were them by waiters "who still showed signs 
finally driven into the space between tli*- of fear at sight of all uniforms. The 
Buttes Chaumont and the Chateau d'Eau ; attractions were, as usual in France, a 
the two wings of the regular army joined, theatrical spectacle, composed of groups 
throw in",' the remains of the insurrection- of prisoners brought down from Belle- 
ists upon the centre, which received the ville ami La Villette, and paraded lie- 
shock without deigning to move forward tween ranks of horsemen. Towards 
or back. Five o'clock, six. seven, noon on that historic Sunday a ghastly 
passed, bringing death momentarily to faltering procession of five thousand men, 
the brave defenders of the Pere La women, and children passed through the 
Chaise batteries; at eight, just as the city on their way to Versailles. Mar- 
niiny twilight was surrendering to dark- quis de Galliffet rode at the head of a 



EVUOPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



511 



brilliant staff, behind which was a long 
Line of soldiers who had deserted to the 
Commune, and who were to be shot. 
Women and men went arm-in-arm, many 
a strong man holding up his fainting 
wife or daughter. There were real 
family parties, where the strong work- 
man held one of his loved ones each by 
the hand, and children followed father, 
mother, and daughter. One old man, 
who seemed dazzled by the light and 
frightened at the execrations of the 
crowd, fell down repeatedly, and was 
dragged hurriedly up by his comrades, 
who feared that the soldiers would shoot 
him. By far the most horrible sight, 
however, was that of a man who broke 
away and ran furiously, dashing aside 
the hands outstretched to stop him. A 
troop of cavalry galloped after him. He 
foamed at the mouth, and ran still faster; 
now he was down — now up — now a 



horse's feet felled him ; a bugler dis- 
mounted, and he was placed on the 
vacated saddle. The cavalry men set 
off at sharp pace to regain the troop. 
The man fainted ; his face was covered 
with blood and dirt; he cried, ••Kill 
me!" Five minutes from that time, at 
a street corner not far from where he 
was captured, his appeal was heeded, 
and his quivering body thrown into a. 
cart. A well-dressed man struck it with 
a cane and called it •• Canaille." 

Near the walls, on that day, at the 
principal gate leading to Versailles, the 
Marquis de Galliffet ordered eighty-five 
of the prisoners shot; and his orders 
were at once executed. Then on went 
others over the hot, dusty roads to Ver- 
sailles, where they were packed into 
the filthy prisons, and then examined at 
the rate of one thousand per day. 



512 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE. 

Concessions of M. Thiers. — The Vindictiveness of the Middle Classes. — Massacre of the Prisoners. — 

English ( tomments on the Seven Days' Fight. —Last M intsof the Insurrectionists. — Testimonies 

of Eye-witnesses. — Statistics of the Slaughter. — A Curious Photograph. — Out of Storm into 
( "aim. 



IT is said that M. Thiers made a brief 
visit to Paris during the seven 

days' fight, but that he was only too 

glad to return hastily to Versailles. 
astonished and horrified beyond measure 
at the ( -a iai age and conflagration visible 
on every hand. Thiers had never been 
willing to believe that the Communists 
would proceed to extremities, and 

Maxime Ducamp re ints that shortly 

before the final battle, three Commu- 
nists, personages of consequence, called 
at Versailles, on the Chief of State, and 
made a final effort at reconciliation and 
peace. These persons, whose intellectual 
status was better than that of most of 
the followers of the Commune, and who 
were therefore entitled to some attention, 
endeavored to impress the president with 
the fact, that unless decent terms were 
given to the Commune, it would whelm 
the whole capital in the ruin, which in- 
volved itself. M. Thiers refused to 
believe this. "They have said this very 
often." he remarked, " they have made 
all kinds of threats, but they will not 
execute them." The three delegates 
firmly insisted that he was not familiar 
with the temper of the insurrectionists; 
that they would not hesitate to burn the 
priceless treasures of the Louvre, and to 
deface if not efface all the monuments 
of French grandeur. M. Thiers re- 
flected for some minutes in silence, after 
which he said to the delegates: "Go 
back to Paris, anil say that if surrender 



is at once made. I will prosecute no one 
under the grade of colonel, and I will 
leave the gates of the city open for three' 
days. Is not that sufficiently explicit?" 

The delegates professed themselves 
overwhelmed with his generosity, which 
amounted to a substantial amnesty for 
all the chief offenders except those 
directly connected with the regular 
army, ami who must therefore lie con- 
sidered as traitors to the flag; and they 
went back to Paris full of joy, and two 
of them went to the Communal Assembly 
to report. Much to their consternation 
they were immediately clapped into 
prison, and informed that they were a 
brace of idiots. Thus ended the attempts 
at a peaceable adjustment of thedifficul- 
ties between Paris and Versailles; and 
from that moment there was no hesita- 
tion on the part of the Communists. 
They hacked, plundered, burned, or 
destroyed, without rhyme or reason, 
anxious to pull clown, having demon- 
strated in the face of the world that they 
hail no capacity for construction ; they 
had boasted of the new social edifice, 
which they were to raise, but could not 
even lay its foundations. 

The judgment of the chief apostles of 
liberty in Europe upon their work was 
full of severest condemnation. Mazziui 
wrote to a friend, shortly after the close 
of the Insurrection : "This revolt, which 
broke out so suddenly without precon- 
ceived plans, and tinged by a purely 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



513 



negative socialistic clement, abandoned burglary; was reduced to slay in order 
even by all the French Republicans of to steal ; and found itself finally embar- 
any renown, but defended with passion rassed by useless crimes, nol knowing 
and without fraternal spirit of conces- where the treasures, the secret hoards, 
sion by men who ought to have fought, which it had committed crime in order 
but who did not dare to light against to possess, were to he found. The com- 
the foreign enemy. — tended inevitably parison pleases me, and I extend it. 
to end in the exhibition of ma- 
terialism, to finish by the 
acceptance of a principle of 
action which, even had it ever 
become law, would have thrown 
France back into the darkness 
of the Middle Ages, and would 
have taken from her for cen- 
turies to come all hope of resur- 
rection. This principle is the 
sovereignty of the individual, 
which can bring about only un- 
limited personal indulgence, 
only the destruction of all au- 
thority, and the absolute nega- 
tion of national existence." 

Perhaps Mazzini was a little 
too severe on the National 
Guard when he accuses it of 
not having had the courage to 

light the Prussians; lint all the rest of his Paris was, 
indictment is without a flaw. Rossel, who in the hands 
died at the shooting-post on the plain ofthosesav- 
of Satory, shortly after the fall of the ages, exaet- 




TUE LAST PLACARD 
OF THE COMMUNE. 



ly like a 
combination 
lock. They 
had gotten 
n t o t h e 



Commune, left on record a formidable 

and rather contemptuous characteriza- 
tion of the Commune. " No one of the 
actors in the drama," he said, " had 
studied his part for the great play. There 

was no study, no character, no durable house, and 

audacity in the whole party. This pie- the Com- 

beian crowd of workers aspired to pos- inline stood knitting its brows before the 

sess the world, and yet it knew nothing ponderous sale which contained the 

of the world. When a burglar means to social riches, but was obliged to content 

force a house, he first makes a study of itself with the copper which had been 

the surroundings, the doors, the locks ; left outside. Therefore in its vindic- 

he knows where the strong boxes are, tive rage it set fire to the invaded house 

and how to get into them. lint the before it departed." There is the bitter- 

Conimune was a novice at the trade of ness of repentance after deception in 



;>14 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

these stinging words of Rossel. He was whole length of the Rue de Rivoli, 

not the only generous and noble s|iirit lighted by fires all along the route, — ■ 

led into the movement, only to find that the Ministry of Finances, the Tuileries, 

he had associated himself with an ignoble and I don't know how many private 

and disreputable crew. houses. The effect of the flames rising 

Bad as the Commune was, terrible as up to the blue sky — for the weather is 
the wreck of property and of life in most beautiful — is quite startling. Every 
the great seven days' fight had been, few yards there is a kind of barricade, 
neither the remembrance of this nor any and around it a heap of corpses. In 
other thing could excuse the ferocity and the midst of these fires, breathing the 
vindictiveness of the middle classes of sulphurous air, and under the impression 
Paris when once they had got the Com- of the indignation and irritation inspired 
iimnc down. They were not content by so many crimes, man seems to un- 
witli setting their feet upon its neck, dergo a complete transformation. One 
but they wished to mangle and torture looks with a kind of cruel satisfaction 
it. Prisoners were treated with a feroc- upon the faces, yellow as wax, of the 
itv which would scarcely be credited if bodies struck down by the balls of the 
it were to be described. I have little chassepdts, and involuntarily one falls 
doubt (hat dozens, if not scores, of in- to cursing those dead men ill the name 
nocent people perished because of the of the massacres and the victims every- 
denunciations of stupid or villainous ser- where to lie seen. It would seem as if 
vants and zealous tradesmen. Scores sensitiveness would be destroyed, but it 
of foreigners narrowly escaped death at is, on the contrary, increased. Going 
the hands of the regulars, simply because back in the evening towards the Champs 
they were foreigners ami found some Elys£cs, after having passed buckets at 
difficulty in explaining their presence in the lire of the Hotel de Ville half the 
Paris. The Marquis de Galliffet was day. I met in the Rue St. Honore a 
accused, and never made any very ex- long tile of prisoners that soldiers were 
plicit denial of the charges, of having taking to the head-quarters. Among 
decimated his processions of prisoners them were women who were really 
without any trial or other formality than hideous. The men marched, some carry- 
pointing his linger at the ones to be shot, ing their heads elect; others, with a 
Many of the stories told of the regular sombre and terrible aspect ; others, com- 
troops and their excesses of vengeance pletely broken down with fear. In the 
were exaggerated at the time, but enough party were many young girls, and even 
is established as history to make one children. One man was leading by the 
believe that the older a nation grows the hand his two little sons; a daughter, six 
more terrible is a civil war within its or seven years old. hung about his neck, 
boundaries. The crowd followed upon the heels of 

From the diary of a French writer, who the prisoners, yelling -Death! Death! 
carefully observed the seven days' tight. Death to the pitroleuses! Down with 
I take a few sentences which show the assassins! Don't take them any far- 
temper of the time. The writer is ther ! Shoot them right here!' And 
speaking of the closing days of the from the fury which shone in the eyes of 
light. ••Never again will such a spec- these people, it seemed as if at the first 
tacle be seen. I have just been up the halt they would precipitate themselves 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



515 



upon the prisoners and tear them to 
pieces. The little girl looked upon this 
an^ry crowd with her great black eves 
filled with an indefinable expression of 
astonishment, of fright, and of sadness; 
and the more frightened she became, the 
more she tugged at the neck of her poor 
father. His wandering look seemed for 
a moment to fix itself upon me. I 
could not restrain myself. 1 ran to the 
man. who held the little creature like a 
shield against the death which he very 
likely merited, and I said to him in a 
supplicating voice, 'Give me your little 
daughter. I will give her back to you.' 
For answer, he only said to me, ' I am 
innocent. I don't know why 1 have 
been taken into this company.' Just 
then soldiers pushed us violently apart." 
The excited statement of the London 
"Times" on the last day of May, that 
Paris was no more, that we might look 
for it in future, but should find its place 
only, was scarcely justified by facts. 
Vet the destruction had been so great 
that there is nothing wonderful in the 
formidable nature of the impression 
which it produced in neighboring capi- 
tals. The Hotel de Ville, the Lyric 
Theatre, the Palais Eoyale, the Grand 
Library of the Louvre, the Council of 
.State, the ('ours des Comptes, the Palais 
de Justice, the vast granaries on the 
Boulevard Bourdon, and the Tuileries, 
the enormous warehouses on the docks 
of La Villette, dozens of rich mansions 
in the Rue de Lille and the line Royale, 
and in other of the principal avenues — 
had been either totally destroyed or so 
damaged that their demolition was 
necessary ; and such had been the de- 
termined efforts to burn the historic 
cathedral of Notre Dame, and the 
churches of St. Eustache, the Made- 
leine, and the Trinite, that it seemed to 
those who read the sensational accounts 



published at the time as if the French 
capital were razed to the ground; yet 
two years afterwards there were but 
few marks of the conflagration or of the 
battle of the streets visible, and tourists 
invariably indulged in exclamations of 
disappointment. There were no ruins 
to see. 

Here we may take leave of our notes 
of the great insurrection. French soci- 
ety revenged itself terribly upon those 
who had temporarily interrupted its 
course. The hatred of the classes was 
intensified rather than extinguished. 
Men like Rossel, Ferre, Bourgeois, Mil- 
liere, Delescluze, and Rigault appear 
to have Left behind them persons who 
consider them as martyrs, and it was 
not until after the general and complete 
amnesty that the aspirations for a second 
Commune were substantially checked. 
All those who were anxious for the rec- 
onciliation of the opposing forces in 
French society, men like Victor Hugo, 
men like Father Hyacinthe. did their 
best by word and pen to bring about 
a fraternal feeling. But, alas ! Fra- 
ternity exists only upon the portals of 
the public buildings, where it is written 
up in connection with its handmaidens, 
Liberty and Equality. 

No one connected with the Commune 
appears to have manifested much hero- 
ism or bravery when his final moment 
came. Raou] Rigault had no time to 
protest or to fume against his captors, 
lie was pushed against the wall and shot 
like a dog. The recital of the death of 
Milliere, who was a man of some power 
as a publicist, and who at the time of 
the Victor Noir riots had a temporary 
notoriety, is rather interesting. Mil- 
liere was taken after the regular troops 
had broken down the barricades at the 
Pantheon, in the home of his father-in- 
law, who lived hard by, and was brought 



516 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

before a general installed near the Lux- you can make me do it if you wish." 

embourg. As the wretched man was The officer then had him forced on to 

dragged into the house with a thousand his knees, and his execution was then 

people howling at his heels, the general proceeded with. He cried, "Fi'ye Vhu- 

said. •• So you are Milliere?" — '• Yes ; " maniti ! " and was going to e ha ut sonie- 

saiil the revolutionist, assuming a certain thing else, when death interrupted him. 
dignity, "and you must remember that Among the Americans present in Paris 

1 am a deputy." — "That may be so. but during the reign of the Commune and 

1 rather think yon have lost your quality the battles in which it was crushed, no 

of deputy. For that matter, we will pro- one saw more, nor went about more 

eeed to have you identified." The bravely determined to observe, even at 

officer who had arrested Milliere pies- the risk of his life, than Mr. Oiner T. 

ently told him that the general's orders Glenn, of Cincinnati. This gentleman 

were that he should he shot. ••Why?" has kindly communicated to me from 

said Milliere. The officer answered, his private journal a few notes, which 

•■ I only know yon by name. 1 have read are not without a striking interest. 

articles of yours which quite disgusted With reference to the famous courts-mar- 

me. Yon are a viper, whose head must tial, Mr. (Menu writes: "] passed by 

be crushed. You detest society." Mil- the Chatelet Theatre, on every side of 

Here answered, " 1 do indeed hate so- which, except tin 1 rear, large crowds 

ciety iu its present form." — " Very well ; were gathered. Prisoners were being 

then von shall he expelled from its tried rapidly. I had not lone to wait 

midst. Yon are about to he shot." before a. batch of twenty or thirty came 

.Milliere protested that this was barbar- out under guard of the blue-uniformed 

oils cruelty, worthy of savages, etc.; soldiers, who did most, if not all, of the 

but he was taken at once to the Pan- shooting at the Caserne Lobau. These 

Ihcon, where the general, by a refine- prisoners were marched down to the 

incut of cruelty, had ordered he should Caserne Lobau, placed over against a 

be shot in a kneeling position, as if bee- wall: the huge folding-doors of the 

ging pardon of Society for the evil building were then closed, and we im- 

which he hail wrought. A participant mediately heard a rattle of musketry, 

in the execution says that Milliere re- followed by the usual stray shots at 

fused to be shot in a kneeling posture, those who still showed signs of life. A 

The officer said to him. •■ It is the or- gentleman who was with me said, 'Let 

dels: you will be shot thus, and not us get away from this horrible sight : I 

otherwise." lie played a little comedy, can't stand it ;' so we crossed the street, 

tore open his coat, showing his naked and took our way up the Boulevard St. 

breast to the platoon charged to shoot Michel. Here and there soldiers and civi- 

hiin ; so the officer said to him, " You bans were cheerfully at work replacing 

need not indulge in any theatricals: just the paving-stones, levelling barricades, 

take it easily, and it will be much bet- etc. The chances of being called upon 

lei." Milliere answered, ■• I have a to aid in this work were so good that I 

right, in my own interest and in that of concluded to return, after a, promenade 

my cause, to do as I please." — " Very of a few squares; so I went back to the 

well, then, gel on your knees ! " Milliere Chatelet. 
then said. "1 will never do it myself; •' In a few minutes out came another 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



517 



party of prisoners tinder guard. 
These were men ranging in age from 
eighteen to sixty, some of them batless, 
almost every one appearing to be of 
the working class. I am inclined to 
think that they knew they were marching 
to immediate death; they looked so 
effaris. Arriving at theCaserne Lobau, 
the same scene was gone through with, 
the closing of the doors, the rattle of 
musketry, one or two cries, then some 
stray shots. It seemed to me that the 
executioners wore the same appalling 
expression of countenance as the prison- 
ers themselves. I ventured to remark to 
a bourgeois at my elbow, ' At this rate 
of destruction, Paris will soon have no 
workmen left.' — 'Oh !' replied he, ' there 
are plenty of others to come up from the 
country.' This butchery at the Caserne 
Lobau went on for several days. 
I once went to Pore La Chaise, and there 
talked to some workmen, who had been 
burying some executed Communists. 
The workmen thought they had covered 
in about four hundred men. I also went 
to Montparnasse. Here dead men, dis- 
interred at various points in the city. 
were being brought in in wagons, to lie 
thrown into the ditches dug for the Com- 
munards. As the crowd pressed for- 
ward to get a view of the bodies about to 
be tumbled into the trenches, an old 
guardian, in uniform, would cry out, 
'Move back, ladies and gentlemen! 
Move back! It is not :i pleasant spec- 
tacle, I assure you.' These burials of 
the wagon-loads of corpses went on all 
that day. I do not believe there were 
thirty thousand executions, as has been 
reported ; perhaps live thousand in all." 
The official statistics with regard to 
the punishment of the insurrectionists 
have a pathetic interest. Of course 
there is included in these statistics only 
the punishment of the prisoners who 



were brought before regular courts after 
the complete cessation of hostilities. 
This does not comprise the hundreds, if 
not thousands, who were shot by the 
sentences of courts-martial during the 
battle. From the 3d of April. 1871, to 
the 1st of January, 1872, thirty-eight 
thousand live hundred and seventy-eight 
individuals were arrested as participants 
in the insurrection. Of this number the 
military courts sat in judgment upon 
thirty-six thousand three hundred and 
nine, of which two thousand four hun- 
dred and forty-five were acquitted, ten 
thousand one hundred and thirty-one 
were convicted, and twenty-three thou- 
sand seven hundred and twenty-seven 
were liberated after examination. As 
the official documents of the Commune 
say that some hundred and fifty thousand 
armed men took part in the revolt, these 
figures would indicate that France was 
not too severe in her punishment. The 
government papers say that among 
those arrested were seven thousand four 
hundred persons who had been previously 
convicted for crimes against the law. 
There appear to have been but little 
more than a hundred sentences to death 
passed by the military courts from 1871 
to 1875, at the end of which period the 
"Commission of Assassins," as the sym- 
pathizers with the Commune called the 
Parliamentary Committee which dealt 
with the prosecutions, made up its re- 
port. There were many singular and 
rather inexplicable sentences. Thus, 
Eochefort, who was not really a Com- 
munist, lint who had to leave Paris be- 
cause he told the Commune the danger 
into which it was marching blindfold, 
found himself sentenced to confinement 
in a fortress for life, and was sent off to 
the other end of the world, whence he 
made his escape in most romantic fashion, 
and found his way to New York, and 



518 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

thence to Switzerland. Paschal Grous- After the horrors of this prolonged 
set, the good-looking and amiable young struggle, peace and security seemed to 
man whom the Commune dignified with bring with them a complete nervous re- 
the appellation of its delegate of foreign action, from which all who had been 
affairs, managed to save his head, al- spectators of, ami partial or unwilling 
though he passed through five minutes participants in the drama, suffered for 
of the most terrible suspense in front of many days. The principal physicians of 
the Grand Hotel in Paris, when he was Paris assert that hundreds of people had 
recognized in a cab, and was saved, as if their brains literally turned by the 
by a miracle, from being torn in pieces, horrors which they were compelled to 
He shared Rochefort's condemnation and witness ; and it is not strange that even 
punishment, ami fad 1 destined him also those who were not predisposed to in- 
to share in the audacious journalist's sanity were in a mental condition far 
escape from the penal colony of New from normal for a lengthy period. 
Caledonia. From Paris I wenl to London, and at 
In the shop of a bookseller on the St. Denis, as the train crawled out of 
Boulevard I one day found the photo- the walls of the capital, and passed the 
graph of a working-man, upon whose half-ruined fortress, we found the Prus- 
face there was an expression of mingled sians, who departed from their usual 
awe. contempt, and fear; the look was dignity so far as to give the passengers 
positively so mysterious and awful that in the train an ironical cheer, and to cry, 
it at once commanded respectful atten- '■'■Vive la Commune!" Butthisgratnitous 
tion. [ inquired the history of this sin- insult was far from being in accordance 
gular picture, and was t<>M that it was with the usual custom of the Germans, 
the face of a. workman photographed, who, as a man, had quite as great a con- 
doubtless in the interest of some psycho- tempt for the Commune as the French 
logical study, a moment or two before he property -holder could have, 
was executed. The expression of this In London we seemed in another 
poor fellow, standing thus upon the world. The calm of the great green 
threshold of eternity, still hot with the parks, the laughter of the children in 
passions and the enmities of lime, may the streets, and the undisturbed flow of 
be taken as typical of the attitude of commerce in the mighty metropolis, 
the fighters for the Commune during seemed almost unnatural, so accustomed 
the last terrible seven days, of which I had the eye and ear become to the sound 
have endeavored here to give some ac- of battle and to the sense of danger. 
count. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



519 



CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX. 

After Storm, Culm. — London and Paris. — Points of Resemblance and of Difference. — London 
and Paris Cockneys. — Old London. — Contrasts in Manners, Food and Drink. — Sunday in the Two 
Capitals. — Mutual Respect and Comical Concealment of It. 



THE contrasts suggested by the ar- 
rival in London after the con- 
fusion, the bloodshed, and the dangers 
in Paris, were highly impressive and 
striking ; but they are even at ordinary 
times only less in degree. English sym- 
pathies had been deeply stirred by the 
turmoil on the " Continent," as our British 
cousins with their insular coolness call 
the greater portion of Europe, and 
London had, with its magnificent charity, 
done good alike to Germans and to 
French. But beneath the sympathy it 
was not difficult to discern a kind of 
pity which was not unmixed with scorn, 
and there was a disposition in the upper 
chisses to decry and perhaps to deny the 
value of the revolution through which 
the neighboring country, the secular 
enemy and antagonist, but now the 
prostrate and appealing ally, had passed. 
That England was stirred by the vast 
demonstration of German military power 
there w r as abundant proof. It was ap- 
parent in the renewed attention to coast 
defences, the rebirth of the military feel- 
ing in the remotest centres, the most 
rural of counties, and the disposition to 
turn for consolation in the presence of 
these huge triumphs of a neighbor and 
kindred race, to the contemplation of 
the "Greater Britain," of which Sir 
Charles Dilke has given us so picturesque 
and adequate an account. England had 
not been in the midst of important events 
for the two or three preceding years. 



The Reform Bill agitation over, the 
country had settled into one of its long 
periods of inertia, — as it seems to the 
foreigner, — periods in which the needed 
next reform seems to crystallize in the 
national mind without apparent glow of 
feeling or noisv demonstration of any 
shape whatsoever. 

London and Paris, between which 
there is an incessant and most curious 
interchange of sentiment and of travel, 
are as unlike each other in some respects 
as if they were thousands instead of 
a few hundred miles apart. Each has 
flowing through its centre an historic 
stream, whose banks are lined with im- 
posing, and with venerable mansions, 
and the citizens of each city pay especial 
reverence to these rivers, and are as 
proud of them as if they were Amazons, 
Congos, or Mississippis. Each city has 
an ancient and ornate Cathedral church. 
and the lover of the beautiful finds it 
hard to choose between Notre Dame 
and Westminster. Each litis its cor- 
porations with their innumerous tra- 
ditions, their fuss and feathers, their 
gowns and furs, their privileges and 
accumulated wealth ; each has a muni- 
cipal legend, which is full of glory and 
fighting, of careers of citizens enriched 
by trade and ennobled by their sover- 
eigns ; each has a huge institution de- 
voted to military and naval glory ; and 
each its crypt in which a hero sleeps. 
There is a kind of eousinship between 



520 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

the Pantheon and St. Paul's. Kadi sound of Bow Hells, and he finds little, 
capital lias its observatory, which it if anything, to object t<> in the monu- 
thiuks the first in the world ; and each raents or the manners bequeathed to him 
its academics of painting, which respee- by the Englishmen of past epochs. 
lively assert their supremacy without Modern Paris, with its enormous and 
doubt as to the legitimacy of their claims, wide avenues, with their broad side- 
Each has its parliament, its ministries, walks bordered with graceful trees, with 
its official " season," and diplomatic lux- the lightn sss and grace of the huge yel- 
ury, activity, and splendor; each its an- lowish-white mansions, with their balco- 
nied visitation of the rich and the great, nies ami their immense ranges of plate- 
who go to Paris ami London because "lass windows, their dexterously deco- 
thev arc London and Paris, and for no rated shops, and their superb churches, 
other reason at all ; and each its throng halls, markets, fountains, and squares, 
of adventurers, who come to prey upon is a dazzling and bewitching vision to 
the rich and to bask in their sunshine those who first look upon it: and from 
with that recklessness of the future April to November the beautiful town is 
characteristic of their class. bathed in delicate sunlight and rarely 
lint after a little, one finds it diffieull overhung with the gray and frowning 
to establish analogies between London skies, which, joined to the canopy of 
and Palis. Both cities arc alike in this sooty and sulphurous smoke, make Lon- 
regard, that while their citizens manifest don so oppressive to the new-comer, 
and express the greatest veneration for Put London has a quiet beauty of its 

the relics of the past, the 1 Lin and own, which the great town does not 

new portions of the capitals are unpict- hastily reveal, and which one must learn 
uresque and prosaic Perhaps the Lou- to find out. There are certain tempera- 
cloner attaches more importance to the ments specially delighted with what they 
past than docs the Parisian. In France, are pleased to term the ••mellowness" 
hundreds of thousands of people date of London. — -its mists, which seem to 
everything in their country's history give a kind of glamor to the commonest 
from the Revolution of the last century, objects, its winding streets, with unex- 
whieh, as Taine says, made " a new pected stairs and gateways, triply pro- 
France." Put, in England, although in tected with iron hooks and spikes, its 
their time they have cut oil' a king's broad expanses of court, around which 
head, they have not cut loose from the ancient houses stare down upon black- 
traditions, the legends, and the beauties of cned. almost unrecognizable, statues of 
former centuries, and they still speak of half-forgotten worthies, its mysterious 
them with bated breath. The Parisian rookeries, dignified with aristocratic 
cockney is a cynic, and the London names, to which the 1 busy Londoners 
cockney an enthusiast. If Alphonse or repair for refreshment, the shadowy 
Adolphe go to Versailles for a Sunday's taverns into which the sun almost never 
outing, they are more than likely to criti- peeps, the recesses protected by oaken 
eise the landscape gardening of Le screens, by red curtains, in which men 
NOtre, and to poke fun at the shade of take their dinners ami drink with the 
the great monarch. Put 'Any mi the gravity of conspirators and communicate 
sands at Margate or at Hampton Court in whispers, though they have nothing 
is as trulv patriotic as when within the whatever to conceal. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



521 



It is worthy <>f note that while Paris 
is the most literary of European capitals, 
the stranger is not so prone to associate 
its architectural and physical features 
with some literary remembrance as he is 
in London. One thinks of Dr. Johnson 
and of Dickens in a walk up Fleet 
Street and through the .Strand; but one 
rarely gives a thought to Balzac on the 
boulevard. In London, the high streets 
and the by-streets are tilled with children, 
clean and dirty, well and ill dressed, 
decorous and screeching, children young 
and children half-grown, babes under 
the feet and brats at the corner; but in 
Paris, one starts in search of a child 
almost in vain. The street Arab, so 
familiar to English and American eyes, 
is unknown in Paris. If the baker's boy, 
in his white cap. is disposed now and 
then to be jocular, he docs it with the 
air of a mature and blase clubman. As 
for M. Hugo's famous Gavroche, I have 
yet to see his exact type. He must 
have gone out with the IMS Republic. 
But London is a city full of children, and 
of children who take their ease in their 
good capital, unrestricted by draymen, 
policemen, and other functionaries dread- 
ful to juvenile folk elsewhere. 

While in elegance of modern architect- 
ure Paris undoubtedly takes the lead, 
in independence and in quiet comfort, 
not devoid of a certain picturesqueness, 
London, if it could get rid of its smoke, 
would be without a rival. In Paris 
there is always a feeling of attrition. 
The life is intensely public, glaring. 
The street is a salon in extenso. < hie 
instinctively feels in his pocket for his 
gloves, and looks to his cane when he 
goes abroad. At home, there is the 
lodge-keeper, a kind of jack-in-office, in 
his den. In a " quarter " of Paris there 
are a thousand little centres like so 
many gossiping, covetous, and back- 



biting village circles. Both Paris and 
London have a curiously provincial flavor 
which is not perceptible in other great 
cities. If any thing striking hap- 
pens in London at two o'clock of an 
afternoon, it is talked of in Whitechapel 
and Belgravia in the same minutely gos- 
siping vein before sunset. " Every- 
body knows everybody who is anybody 
in Paris," said a Parisian to me once. 
As the cities become great, the citizens 
in them, instead of growing unconcerned 
in the presence of daily events, take a 
ludicrously exaggerated concern in them. 
London, with its four and a half mil- 
lions, Paris with its two and a half mil- 
lions, of what might be called intramural 
folk, and with their colossal aggrega- 
tions of wealth, of culture, of crime, of 
misery, of adventure, are as eager for the 
latest news of a rifle-match or a horse- 
race as a New England village might be. 
Much of new London sprang into 
being during the long wars, when Great 
Britain was cut off from association with 
the continent, and when, consequently, 
her architects and builders were de- 
prived of models of taste. — when, in 
fact, the people eared little for taste in 
their shelters ; hence the miles and 
scores of miles of hastily-planned, squat 
and blackened house-fronts, which con- 
ceal happy and harmonious homes, but 
which to the outward vision are repulsive 
enough. When Paris got the informing 
touch of modern improvement under the 
Empire, when Napoleon III., who had 
had his gaze sharply fixed on London's 
defects during his residence there, re- 
solved that he would leave a monument 
built out of the lime-stone quarries of 
France in the capital, where he managed 
to maintain his rule well or ill, old 
Paris, was destined to lose some of 
its charm and mysteries in the presence 
of this pressure of improvement, but 



522 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



"old London" has kept its strangeness 
and oddity, and bids fair to keep it long. 
The wood pavement has found its way 
into many a black alley and in front of 
many an antique pile, but the craze for 
the widening of streets has not been 
allowed to interfere with old Loudon. 

Many points of contrast between Lon- 
don and Paris have disappeared within 
the last twenty years. Of the ordinary 
Paris, nothing was more impressive 
before the many changes which invaded 
the two capitals consequent on the great 
current of international travel, than the 
difference in the aspect of the two great, 
cities on the Sunday. To the American 
of the Atlantic and the Middle States. 
the profound repose of respectable Lon- 
don on the sacred day was as natural 
and proper as, to his thinking, the open 
transaction of business, the gayety, and 
the festal atmosphere of the Sunday of 
Paris was shocking and detestable. The 
American found, however, that there 
was an unpleasant Sunday side to Lou- 
don, and was duly shocked in presence 
of the throngs of roughs, and of 
wretchedly-clad women and even chil- 
dren waiting, at mid-day, the opening 
of the public houses, where intoxicating 
liquors Were freely dispense, 1. But this 

the tolerant traveller noted as the result 
of the depravity consequent upon igno- 
rance, while he went back to the old 
French Revolution, with what he was 

wont to call its mischievous teachings, 
for the license prevalent in the French 
capital. Nowadays the Parisians close 
their shops, not because they consider 
Sunday as more worthy of observance 
than any other fete day, but because 
they take it as the occasion of their 
weekly ailing, and their promenades 
among the beauties of the clean streets. 
Among the fashionable tradesmen Sun- 
dav-closing is universal iu Paris. In 



the Rue de la Paix, on many of the 
grand boulevards, and in most of the 
avenues devoted to shops where articles 
of luxury are sold, (he shutters are all 
up. only a Hebrew now and then plying 
his commerce in bold defiance of the 
general rule. The hundreds of shops in 
Paris which depend upon the custom of 
the foreign traveller arc as careful to 
keep Sunday as they are to put " Eng- 
lish Spoken," and " Se Hdbla Es-panol," 
upon the plate-glass of their windows. 

On the other hand, the sternness of 
the London Sunday has been much 
broken by the great invasion of the for- 
eign element, the Italian, the German, 
the .lew, the Greek; and the wanderer 
in the great capital in pursuit of some- 
thing to eat on a Sabbath afternoon now 
sees the doois of an inviting riij'r wide 
open where lie would have sought for re- 
freshment in vain some years ago. The 
stranger's idea that all classes of Lon- 
doners give themselves up with Puri- 
tanic devotion to a solemn stillness on 
the Sabbath is incorrect. In some of 
the upper circles, receptions are held and 
dinners are given ; in the literary and 
artistic guild, the day is used for meet- 
ings and conversation ; but it is rare to 
hear of a concert, or an entertainment, in 
the strict sense of the term, at any pri- 
vate house on Sunday. The trains run 
at, certain hours of the day; the parks 
in summer arc 1 tilled with hundreds of 
thousands of promenaders of all classes, 
and bands of music sometimes play re- 
frains taken from opera bovffes which 
bear the mark of Paris export. The 
museums are not yet open to the public, 
as in Paris, although here and there is 
an exhibition, as at Greenwich, where 
one may wander through the stately halls 
and see the pictures of great naval bat- 
tles and the memorials of Nelson, shown 
with reverent gestures by the whimsical 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



523 



old guardians ; and a singular feature of 
London society is the aristocratic gather- 
ering in the Zoological Gardens (popu- 
larly known as the Zoo) from four to 
seven on a summer .Sunday afternoon. 
The holiday making of the Londoner in 
the many beautiful resorts near the capi- 
tal, such as Hampton Court, Richmond, 



riment ; hut the Parisian crowd is not 
satisfied without a balloon, and, possibly, 
a horse-race, a shopping excursion among 
the booths of the fairs, which are as nu- 
merous as the saints in the calendar, fire- 
works, and a roystering dinner in the even- 
ing, with probably a merry carriage-ride 
home after dinner. In London, people 




SUNDAY MARKET IN PETTICOAT LANE, 



Windsor, Kew Gardens, Dulwich, is 
vastly more decorous and subdued than 
that of the Parisian, who, in company with 
his wife or his sweetheart, finds his way 
to Versailles or St. Cloud, to Meuclon or 
Sceaux, to the forests of St. Germain or 
Fontainebleau, toVille d'Avray or to the 
pretty villages on the banks of the Seine. 
If the London cockney indulges in a roll 
on the grass, it is the extent of his mer- 



go abroad simply for exercise, for which 
every healthy English man and woman 
has a kind of mania: in France, no one 
thinks simply of physical exercise, and 
the glow of appetite which follows it, but 
rather of the sensuous beauty of green 
lanes and turfy lawns, the sight of pretty 
fountains, symmetrical parks, and a look 
at the fashions as displayed in the mov- 
ing throngs. France being a highly 



524 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



democratic country, every conceivable 
kind of vehicle, unless it be an advertis- 
ing van, is admitted to the liois de Bou- 
logne. The cook goes to ride with her 
coachman lover on the box <>t' his cab, 
which falls into line behind the stately 
equipage of an English duke, a Spanish 
grandee, or the President of the Repub- 
lic, if he happens alone-. But the 
unfortunate wight who attempts an en- 
trance to Hyde Park in a numbered car- 
riage will find himself most haughtily 
motioned away, and must wait until lie 
can afford a livery, hired or owned, he- 
fore he can mingle with the "upper ten." 
Perhaps there is no sight in London park 
on any day so amazing as that of the 
immense number of handsome carriages 
returning from the Grand Prix, through 
the Hois de Boulogne, in Paris on a Sun- 
day afternoon. But two-thirds of the 
people who li 11 these handsome vehicles 

belong to the great mob of adventurers 
and adventuresses, who perpetually fill 
the motley world of Paris. There is a 
"Hospital Sunday" and a ■■ Studio Sun- 
day " in London; but in Paris. Sunday 
is the choosen day for any and almosl 
every great public_/?fe or celebration. An 
election is held on Sunday; the "real 
horse-race of the year occurs on Sunday ; 
ministers address their constituents on that 
day : and if lirst performances at the thea- 
tres are not given on Sunday evenings, it 
is because the managers have learned by 
long experience that the Sunday papers 
are read with more' interest that those of 
any other day. and they wish the criti- 
cisms of the /iri'iuirrrs, which take place 
on Saturdaj evenings, to appear in them. 
The continental papers are never tired of 
reviling the English Sunday as a horri- 
ble institution, calculated to promote sui- 
cide or despair ; and a lively French lady 
once informed me that the terrors of the 
Channel on a Saturday night and the ter- 



rors of a gloomy Sunday in the English 
metropolis had sufficiently alarmed her 
to prevent her ever again visiting the 
British Isles. 

As Paris grows larger it takes on, as 
London long ago took on, a climate of 
its own. Humboldt, in a burst of indig- 
nation against the France which lie never 
liked, once said that Paris had the worst 
climate in the world ; and the great 
traveller's dictum has at least some 
foundation in fact. When the gloom of 
November settles down over the fair 
city. Paris is scarcely more agreeable 
than London. The vast area of chimneys, 
letting forth the smoke of the soft Bel- 
gium coal, year by year, makes the 
winter atmosphere very like that which, 
when one first sees it in London, Man- 
chester, or Birmingham, gives a shudder 
of repulsion. But in great cities, people 
lake small note of the weather, their 
lives being artificial and indoors, for 
your true Londoner is. despite his frantic 
devotion to exercise, an indoor being 
eight months of the year. It is not 
strange that he should be so in a climate 
which elicits such mention as I once read 
in an English journal, namely, "January, 
February, March, April, May. June, anil 
the other winter months." Paris has its 
fogs, dreary and uninviting as those 
of London. It sometimes has cold and 
rainy Junes; and the weatherwise say- 
that the climate of the north of Europe is 
slowly changing to cold, fog, and damp. 
Both the Parisian and the Londoner 
seem determined to fortify against this 
inroad of the elements by an increased 
devotion to alcohol, and since the great 
warof 1870-71 Paris has learned to drink 
deeply. Both in Paris and London, eat- 
ing and drinking are elevated to the 
dignity of pursuits. Some of the finest 
and most imposing edifices in newer 
Loudon are joint-stock restaurants, with 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



525 



palatial halls above and deep and warm 
basements, where juicy steaks and chops 
sputter upon the grills, and where the 
foaming ales and wines, presumably 
good, flow freely until the small hours, 
except on Saturday night, when every- 
thing is relentlessly closed on the stroke 
of twelve; and if ''Big Ben," in his 
tower by the Thames, should sound the 
last of his twelve strokes before the bar 
of the publican and the cafi keeper is 
shut, a burly policeman h at hand with 
first a friendly warning and next a 
peremptory summons. The rigidity with 
which the laws regulating small matters 
are enforced, in both London and Paris, 
is a source of constant wonder to the 
American, accustomed to more latitude 
in the earning out of laws which he 
makes for himself. 

It is odd to remark that the citi- 
zens of each capital constantly reproach 
those of the other with their lack of 
knowledge of the art of cookery. It 
is a firm article of faith in the French- 
man's calendar that the English are- 
savage in their appetites, and have no 
national dishes ; while the Englishman is 
unshaken in his conviction that the 
French live upon messes and slops, and 
numerous bits and corners of things of 
which the fastidious stomach of the 
Anglo-Saxon would not allow him to par- 
take. The real fact is that good and 
wholesome cooking is to be found in 
the homes of the middle classes in each 
of the great cities, and thai when you 
come to the tables of the nobility, the 
merchant princes, and the nouveaux 
riches, in London or Paris, yon find their 
dinners composites made up by cosmo- 
politan cooks, and showing a choice not 
always in harmony with the laws of 
health, from the luxuries of every country 
under the sun. Strong and lone pota- 
tions have goue out of fashion in the 



highest society iu England. There is no 
longer heavy drinking at lunch or dinner. 
It is reputed bad form; and in Paris it 
was never good form outside the bour- 
geoisie; as for the "people" of each 
capital, it drinks whatever comes handy, 
and all it can get, and for the last few- 
years, wretched adulterated stuffs have 
been sold in both cities. The populations 
of London and Paris are swindled with 
pale sherries, Marsalas and Beaunes, 
St. Emilions, and other seductive fluids 
with exotic names, which are concocted 
out of the strangest materials ; and the 
vin ordinaire, a huge bottle of which is 
placed before the workman of Paris at 
his noonday meal, comes from a. glucose 
factory scarcely half a dozen miles from 
his restaurant. Gone are the festal days 
when, in the lustrous lands of the south, 
the soldier and the peasant paid for their 
wiues by the hour and not by the bottle, 
— having, for a. modest subscription, 
free access to the casks at the cabarets. 
In London, the omnipresent beer-can 
still holds its place iu the popular fancy, 
and beer does its work in keeping hun- 
dreds of thousands of artisans and all the 
serving classes in a befuddled state of 
content, under conditions which might 
otherwise arouse their liveliest com- 
plaints. 

To the American mind the importance 
attaching to the food supply in England 
especially is very striking. Yon open 
the morning paper and you find columns 
upon columns on the mutton from Aus- 
tralia, the wheat from Dakota, the Rus- 
sian and Hungarian supplies of grain, 
the prospects of a crop in Egypt, the 
bad harvests because of the rain iu Eng- 
lish counties, and all this treated with 
an earnestness which betokens its na- 
tional importance. The Paris paper 
lightly gossips of Lamartine in his palmy 
days, or tells a tale of Louis Philippe or 



52(5 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

Napoleon I. The London paper grap- but he is enthusiastic, when the stranger 
pies with the problems of the crowded is not by, in his praise of English order, 
quarters of the East End, ami waxes respect for law, the grand regularity of 
eloquent over the "dead meat supply." Parliament with its ancient formulas and 
(hit of this struggle for food, this recog- imposing traditions, the modest preten- 
nition of the fact that the nourishment sions of royalty, and the popularity of 
must and does come from without, has its representatives, anil although he does 
grown the "Imperial policy" of Great enjoy .seeing the lion's paw caught in 
Britain, with its Woolwich, its navies the net, still, when the lion roars, he 
which sweep the seas, its tremendous ae- cheers as loudly as if England had not 
cumulation of money in colonial enter- been his secular euemy, had not invaded 
prises, its venturesome speculation in his country fourteen times, and had not 
countries thousands of miles away, and sat in Calais town for more than three 
probably its tremendous antipathy to hundred years. The Londoner of high 
protection. Twenty years ago, France, and low degree showed how intense was 
plethoric and proud, ridiculed England his real admiration for Paris when she 
lor this close attention to the food ques- was in her great struggle, and while he 
tion ; but now the crisis has fallen upon is wandering about the avenues of the 
Prance also, and her legislators, ceasing capital on his Easter holiday, or in mid- 
to quarrel vainly among themselves over summer, when the whole city seems 
idle questions of "groups" and dynas- transformed into a beautiful garden filled 
lies, cafe factions and church cliques, with stately palaces, he is hearty in his 
begin to talk of protective duties on compliments, and it is not until he gets 
foreign wheat ; and the word pork is, on home again, and has lost, the thin edge 
some days, found as often as the word of his souvenirs of travel, that he begins 
picture in the scholarly and thoughtful anew to consider the Frenchman as prone 
French periodicals. to frogs, as deficient in manly strength, 
Finally, London and Paris have an and. possibly, in need of moral backbone, 
intense and well-grounded respect for Yet there is not so much intercourse be- 
each other, which each is always doing tween the two capitals as might be sup- 
its utmost to conceal under an assumed posed from their proximity. It is said 
cynicism and critical coldness. Your that but fifty-five thousand English peo- 
Parisian talks of the fogs, the blackness, pie came to the great, l'aris Exhibition 
and the gin palaces, and the brutality of of 1878, and in 1867 the number must 
the Anglo-Saxon with great contempt ; have been less. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



. r )L>7 



CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN. 



The Germans at Dieppe. — The English Channel. — An Effective Fortification. — The " Precious Isle set in 
the Silver Sea." — The North Sea Coast. — English Seaside Resorts. — The White Cliffs of 
England. — The Great Commercial Highway. — ■ George Peabody at Portsmouth. 



IT is said that when the Germans were 
at Dieppe, they indulged in some 
speculation as to the ease with which the 
Channel could be crossed, and England 
invaded. They might have erected a 
column to their speculations, like the 
" Napoleon's Column" which stands 
on the heights of Boulogne, and as it 
weaves to and fro in the brisk salt 
winds which blow over the cliff, serves 
to remind the passers by of the vanity of 
Napoleon First's great plan. The Ger- 
man hosts were wild with triumph in 
those days of 1870, when they talked so 
coolly of a bold enterprise, and they 
were perhaps pardonable. The French 
have long since given up any wild 
schemes for the invasion of the island 
which stands to the northward, boldly 
rising out of the stormy waters, the 
'•precious isle set in a silver sea" of 
which Shakespeare spoke so fondly ; and 
whatever may be the ambitious dreams 
of the German Chancellor, they can 
scarcely have extended so far as to com- 
prehend within their airy scope a hostile 
excursion from Amsterdam or Rotterdam 
to Harwich or Dover. If some day the 
absorbing process of which one now 
hears so much is completed, and Ger- 
many gains a new shore line on the North 
Sea, there may be much bluster about 
coercing England ; but the time for that 
has not yet come. 

The English, however, are fully awake 
to the possibility of danger, and their 
channel and north-easterly coasts are 



amply fortified. The defences of the 
Thames, and of the roadway of Dover, 
the entrenched camp of Plymouth, the 
great works at Milford Haven and Pem- 
broke, awaken the admiration even of 
the jealous Continental powers ; and the 
fortifications of Portsmouth Harbor, 
where hundreds of thousands of pounds 
have been spent in the creation of ar- 
mored forts, seem to leave little to be 
feared. The gigantic guns in the forts 
on the pier at Dover are among the 
wonders of Europe. Yet although the 
project of a tunnel underneath the chalky 
bed of the channel has been agitated for 
more than twenty years, it has made but 
little practical progress. Itis of no avail 
that the French protest that such a 
tunnel can in no case be made use of for 
military purposes, that it might be neu- 
tralized by act of Conference, that it 
could be effectively neutralized by act of 
dynamite, that no force sufficient to 
capture even a small town could under 
the most extraordinary circumstances be 
forced through it; John Bull prefers to 
distrust the foreigner, as he distrusted 
him at the beginning of the century, 
when he was striking at him with all his 
might and main. The channel has been 
crossed by balloon, crossed by hardy 
swimmers, who had not the fear of 
sharks before their eyes. Human beings 
have done their best to bring the " silver 
streak " into contempt and show that it 
is not difficult to traverse ; yet England 
considers it her practical fortification, 



528 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

especially when she sets afloat on it her which clashed with her interests or with 

superb Channel fleet, a floating fortress her ambitions. She points her cannon 

which, in normal times, may be ordered at the Continent, and at the same tune 

away to any danger point, but in periods professes desire for absolute peace with 

of disturbance mi the northern part of ;ill Europe. 

the Continent is at its post. The island A wonderful const line is this of the 
fortress has round about it a tremendous North Sen and the English Channel on 
moat filled with the most capricious and the Continental side, with its ancient his- 
ilillienlt waves in the world. The coast- toric cities, and its hustle of nineteenth- 
guard squadron, with its iron-clad tur- century movement and commerce. At 
ret-ships, its torpedo boats, and some a fishing village five miles from Bou- 
of the •'wooden walls" which are still logne, one may fancy himself transported 
valid, is very powerful. Twenty years back to the Middle Ages. There is little 
ago the coast fortifications of the United if any hint of modernism in costume or 
Kingdom were absurdly insufficient, architecture or anything else therein. 
The " Martello " towers of the old days In the French coast towns, Cherbourg, 
could be knocked to pieces in a few Havre. Dieppe, Boulogne, and Calais. 

minutes with] lern artillery; but when there is a curious contrast of the old and 

rifled cannon came in, the English deter- new; fishing towns nestle about the 
mined to fortify their coasts so that they churches on the hillsides, and down by 
should have no cause for regret. the water are fine quays and imposing 
After 1860 the work went on with warehouses. Of these French coast 
great rapidity, and the new port of towns. Calais and Dieppe are, perhaps, 
Lowestoft, the huge group of batteries the most picturesque. < >u the breezy 
at the mouth of the Stowc at Harwich, heights of Saiute Adresse, back of 
the works at Shoeburyness and at Sheer- Havre, are innumerable chdteaux and 
ness. the [Too and Darnett forts protect- villas, where the merchant princes who 
ing the great arsenal at Chatham, the once owned great fleets have retired to 
perfected defenses of Dover Castle, and the enjoyment of fortunes such as their 
the splendid lines of forts which hedge successors may never hope to make, 
about the maritime establishment at Trouville, on its pretty sands, behind 
Plymouth, — forts having granite walls its black rocks, and backed by an ex- 
three feet thick, strong enough to defy quisite, almost idyllic, succession of rural 
almost any known projectile, and their glades filled with picturesque Norman 
embrasures furnished with metallic buck- farms, is a famous midsummer rendez- 
lers, — all these immense and formidable vous for the fashionable world. At 
chains of iron, steel, and stone bulwarks Trouville, under the Second Empire, 
have been paid for by the nation mi- September was the high season ; when 
eoniplaininglv. but they have added the courts arose and the magistrates 
enormously to its burdens. Great Brit- went to bathe, all the social world fol- 
ain complains but little of the debt con- lowed them. All along the coast of 
sequent on playing at the game of war. Normandy and Brittany smart towns 
More than two-thirds of her national are springing up, filled with hotels and 
indebtedness is due to one long series of country houses created for the residence 
wars which have been waged by her of the English, the American, the Bel- 
withiu our modern days against powers gian, and the German travellers, who 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



529 



like to spend a few weeks by the Ninth- monumental hotels, solemn as Egyptian 
era Sea. The English come in throngs pyramids, and sometimes almost as 
to the French bathing places, and the gloomy, yet with substantial comfort 
French go in turn to walk over the cliffs bestowed within their massive walls. 
of Dover, or to dwell for a time in the lint the curse of the English fashionable 
gorgeous hotels at Brighton. An Eng- hotel is its intense devotion to regula- 
lish duke takes up his station at Dieppe, lions. Everything seems arranged by 
and a French duke goes to Portsea, or rote, until one grows to fancy himself 
to Ventnor, or some other ro- 
mantic nook on the pretty 
shores of the Isle of Wight. 

The English coast towns on 
the Channel are perhaps less 
cosmopolitan than their con- 
tinental rivals opposite, lint 
some of them, like Brighton, 
are quite splendid. Brighton 
is more than ever " London- 
super-mare," now that the 
swift express trains from the 
central railway stations in the 
metropolis are so frequent. A 
famous novelist, a poet fond 
of contemplating the waves, 
or a smart scientist, will have 
their houses at Brighton and 
yet keep in the London move- 
ment, getting away from the 
smoke and steam of the dingy 
metropolis as night settles 
down over it. Time was w hen 
Brighton had a physiognomy 
of its own ; but this is now 
gone. The long promenade, 
with its front of noble hotels 
and villas, shaken and rattled 
by the impetuous wind, might 

be taken for a quarter of London which in a prison rather than in a hostelry. 
had been accidentally blown out to sea. One must regulate life by stern method ; 
Hastings has more flavor than Brighton, and this the Briton does readily ; and 
It is, especially in midsummer, charming, it is noticeable that he grumbles only 
and at Easter, when crowded with visitors, when he travels abroad, submitting at 
almost as gay as its more fashionable home to small tyrannies quite past coin- 
neighbor, prehension. After the hotel, in iinpor- 

The characteristic features of an Eng- tance, comes the '-pier." A first-class 
lish seaside resort are enormous and bathing town often has two piers, and 




THE SCOTCH VOLUNTEERS AT BRIGHTON. 



530 



EUROPE IX STORM AM> CALX, 



on these daring structure's, which run hend the weekly excursions of throngs of 

far i>ut into the stormy water, concert- cockneys. 

rooms and restaurants are constructed, At the French seaside resort, the 

and one has the pleasure of risking hat Casino, with its gay crowds of richly 

or bonnet in u struggle with the wind, in costumed ladies of the upper, middle, 

company with thousands of others, and the lower worlds, and the beach, 

every morning, while listening t<> the with its freakish and perfectly unre- 

niusie of a regimental band. In iin- strained carnivals of bathing, furnishes, 



portant naval and military stations, then 
is almost no show of uniforms, for tin 



perhaps, mure amusement than can be 
found in any English coast town. The 



English officer doffs his costume as soon continental peoples do not go to the 




ON THE SANDS AT BRIGHTON, 



as he is off duty. The variegated as- 
pect of the street, of a German garrison 
town, where hundreds of officers are 
clanking their swords and perpetually 
saluting, is unknown in England. The 
hotel, the pier, the promenade along 
the shore, the daily assemblage, espe- 
cially' in ports like Dover and Folke- 
stone, to see the new arrivals and to 
comment upon them, — these, joined to 
the most discreet bathing, in which the 
sexes are separated with prodigious care, 
are the main points observable at Eng- 
lish seaside resorts, unless we compre- 



seaside for rest or recreation, they go 
for jollity, perhaps for dissipation, for 
frolics. The English ride, drive, walk, 
play lawn tennis, bathe, and feed, on 
scientific principles ; they are not in pur- 
suit of pleasure so much as of health 
and repose. 

Very beautiful and impressive arc the 
white cliffs of England, rising out of the 
Channel on a calm summer's day, and 
very remote and much-to-be-louged-for 
do they seem when the traveller is toil- 
ing towards them in a diminutive packet 
in the midst of the boiling surges in win- 



EUROPE W STORM A XI) CALM. 



531 



ter. The Channel ports, on either side, 
are small and inconvenient, and the craft 
which can enter them afford but poor 
accommodation to the traveller. Up and 
down the great highway of ihe North 
Sea and the Channel, and the way to the 
mid-Atlantic, go the silent fleets, great 
lines of steamers trading from Holland 
to the Indies, the German and the Bel- 
gian ships, the enormous argosies on 
their way to Antwerp, now one of the 
principal ports of Europe. The Orient 
pours its riches through this narrow 
strait into the Scheldt and the Zuyder 
Zee, whence they are dispersed through- 
out the vast domain of Germany and of 
the North. The quays of Antwerp can 
receive and discharge in one day more 
freight-ears than any other three terminal 
stations in Europe. Antwerp is the 
greatest distributing point on the Conti- 
nent to-day. 

When the storms and fogs begin, the 
list of disasters on the Channel length- 
ens with frightful rapidity. Collisions 
must naturally lie frequent on a route so 
thronged witli craft of all kinds, from 
the huge merchant steamer to the small 
fishing-smack. There is a sudden crash 
in the night ; two great shadowy forms 
have met; hundreds of lives are lost, 
and the next morning a hundred news- 
papers tell a story of horror. It seems 
as if these disasters were fated to occur 
from time to time. Innocent emigrants 
bound over seas are swept out of exist- 
ence before they have got out of sight 
of land. Now and then the Channel 
swallows up a victim in a most mys- 
terious manner, as it took down the 
" Eurydice " close by the Isle of Wight. 

It is strange that there is so little said 
and sung about the Channel in England, 
while so much is made of it in France. 
It is true that the English have their 
attention diverted to greater seas and 



narrower escapes farther from home, but 
they have produced no one who has sung 
or spoken so melodiously or forcibly of 
the historic strait as the old gray-haired 
poet wlio lived on a Channel island for 
half a generation rather than breathe 
the air of Paris with the usurper. Vic- 
tor Hugo is a good sailor, immensely 
fond of the sea, and from his coign of 
vantage in Guernsey, studied the Chan- 




VICTOR HUGO. 

nel as lovingly as in his youth lie had 
studied Paris. In his -'Toilers of the 
Sea " it is always the phenomena of the 
Channel that he describes, the worn and 
crumbling rocks, the bold shores, the 
tormented waters, the sudden storms, 
the flashing of the lightning, and the 
mysterious and deadly mists of La 
Manche. He tells with pathetic force 
in one of his books the story of that 
brave Captain Harvey who went down 
in the Channel on the night of the 17th 



532 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

of March, 1870, while making his usual residence of his friend. Sir Curtis Lamp- 
trip in his line steamship the " Nor- son. and while the dead merchant lav in 
mandy," from Southampton to Guern- state in Westminster Abbey, thousands 
sey. Harvey was known to the vener- of poor came to pay their tribute of re- 
able poet, because lie had taken him to spect to one who had known how to 
see the review of the English fleet at make so good use of his wealth. The 
Sheerness on one occasion, and had scene at Portsmouth at the time of the 
decorated his ship, saying that he had embarkation was quite affecting. Thou- 
done it " for the exile." This touched sands of the poorer classes appeared t< 
Victor lingo's heart, and when Captain think it an occasion on which they 
Harvey's ship, the "Normandy," collided should show special respect, and the de- 

with a great screw steamer going from parture of the " Monarch" from the 

Odessa to Grimsby with a load of live port, attended by the capricious little 

hundred tons of wheat, and went down corvette the •■ Plymouth," which looked 

in the mists and the waves, he gave him like a swallow alongside a barn when in 

such an epitaph as only a Hugo can the immediate neighborhood of her Brit- 

give. lie drew a picture of the noble ish convoy, was saluted by the thundei 

captain standing erect on the bridge, of hundreds of cannon. 
revolver in hand, keeping back the sell- I shall never forget the quaint remark 

ish and unruly, forcing into the boats of an old man at the railway station. 

one after another all bis passengers and I inquired of him, on the morning ot 

his crew, saying a pleasant word to a little the ceremony, at what time the train 

boy who was sent last ; and then quietly bearing the remains and the delegation 

going down into the waves with the ship, from London would arrive. "Well, 

from which he would not be separated, sir, we are expecting of 'im down at nine 

•• Every man," said Victor Hugo, "lias o'clock," placing an indefinable emphasis 

one light, the inalienable right of becom- on the " 'im," which indicated that in his 

ing a hero, and Captain Harvey used his mind the departed merchant was still a 

right." vital personality. 

It was from Portsmouth, in the early George Peabody certainly left tin- 
days of 1870, that the line war-ship impress of his talent as well as of his 
the" Monarch " sailed for America, hav- munificence upon the great capital, and 
ing on board the remains of the great it is almost startling to those who had 
American merchant who had so long known him in life to come upon his 
made London his home, and who had bronze figure, serenely seated in the 
endowed its poor with so many charities, midst of the bustling crowd, bard by 
Mr. Peabody died iu London, at the the Loyal Exchange. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



.533 



CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT. 

England's " Silent Highway." — The Sources of Her Greatness. — Her Protect ion of Her Trad •. — Wool- 
wich the Mighty. —Greenwich and lis History. — The Procession of Commerce. — London's Tort. 
— The Dorks and Their Revenue. — London Bridge. — Dore in London. 



WE have said elsewhere that England 
has carefully defended the passes 
of the Thames, the great " silent high- 
way," as if is called, one of tin.' chief 
avenues of the commerce of the world, 
and the most miraculous spectacle, when 
international commerce is in its normal 
condition, on the face of the earth. To 
the stranger, however, the first sight of 
the Thames is a disappointment, for no 
foreigner can share the feeling of the 
British tar who. on returning from a long 
cruise in the Levant, looked up with rap- 
ture to the cloudy sky above him. as 
he entered the Thames, and exclaimed, 
'•'Thank God! uone of your beastly blue 
sky here!" There are moments in sum- 
mer when the spectacle of the 'Thames, 
bearing upon its noble in-coming tide its 
majestic procession of barges and light- 
ers, tilled with riches from all parts of 
the world, is not only picturesque hut pos- 
itively beautiful. Through the hazy 
shimmer of a June afternoon this vision 
of the wealth borne obediently by Father 
Thames every day into the metropolis, 
is one not to be forgotten. But the 
blackness of November is nowhere so 
black ami dreary as by the 'Thames side ; 
nowhere does architecture seem so spec- 
tral, fantastic; nowhere misery so re- 
pulsive, so frightful. The creatures that 
cower in the recesses of Westminster 
Bridge seem far more wretched than the 
poor of Naples or of Dublin. By day 
the mud-Hats, when the tide 1 is out, with 
their fringe of huge brown, or almost 



blackened, buildings, with the mazes of 
alleys anil piers, and innumerous small 
craft Hying hither and yon, as if hope- 
less of finding their way in the general 
gloom, — ali these ive a shiver, and one 
is inclined to tarn from the contempla- 
tion of them. 

If the Seine may now and then lie said 
to woo to suicide, it is difficult to imag- 
ine the 'Thames as tempting to self-mur- 
der. It is something to fly from, and 
although iii its muddy waters and its 
slimy ooze poor wretches do now and 
then And death, suicide being punished 
with the greatest rigor by English mag- 
istrates, as a crime against s iciety, even 
the hungry are wary of jumping in. 

On the Lower Thames we have the 
commerce, and the military preparations 
which advance and protect commerce, 
band in hand. He who watches the 
arrival of the stately Heels from every 
clime under heaven, understands why 
Woolwich, — the vast arsenal and prep- 
aration field of the army. — has its ex- 
istence. England fully understands the 
maxim that " he who trades must be 
prepared to tight." and Woolwich is a 
standing advertisement of the British 
willingness to protect her commerce, and 
to seize upon any favorable opportunity 
for aggression where her commerce may 
find a new outlet. 

So too, Greenwich, in its historic re- 
pose and monumental calm, represents 
the nobility of the British marine in a 
worthy maimer. There are broad lawns, 



534 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



noble arcades, great gray halls filled 
with pictures of battles on sea, chapels. 
monuments, and comfortable homes for 
the <>1(1 sea-dogs, who accept the homage 
and the gratitude of the nation with be- 
coming dignity. Greenwich gives one 
an idea of what England ha* done ; 
Woolwich is a perpetual reminder of 
what England can do. 

There is not much that is romantic on 
the Lower Thames. Gravesend, below 
which are the six great military works 
which protect the entrance to the river, 
is pretty enough in summer time, and is 
lull of historical souvenirs. There it 
was that, in 1522, the great emperor, 
Charles V., embarked with Henry VIII. 
and Cardinal Wolsey in a procession of 
barges waiting to receive them ; there 
that Henry VIII. landed when lie was 
on his way to invade Franc ■ ; and there 
that Charles I., when he was a prince, 
and when starting on his harum-scarum 
trip to the court of Spain, narrowly es- 
caped recognition and arrest by the 
ferryman for whom he had no silver. 
and whose palm he w-as obliged to cross 
with a piece of gold. 

From Gravesend, in the old days, cum- 
brous barges, sometimes marvellously 
decorated with carved and gilded orna- 
ments, used to ascend the Thames; and 
il was not uncommon to see a royal train 
of these barges, thirty-live or forty in 
number, slowly making their way to the 
upper reaches of the river, escorting 
some majesty who had come from foreign 
parts and landed at Gravesend. To- 
day, the town is a yachting station, where 
the Royal Thames Yacht Club has its 
head-quarters, in the season, and where 
thousands of fashionable folk go when- 
ever the races are announced. Up river, 
a little way, is Greenhithe. another 
favorite resort for yachtsmen, and re- 
nowned as the place from which Sir 



John Franklin sailed, in 1845, on his dis- 
astrous voyage to the Arctic Ocean. 
Still farther up, on the left, is the noble 
park at Greenwich, on a lofty point in 
which stands the famous observatory, an 
humble group of buildings without any 
architectural pretensions whatever. 
Greenwich is famous for that peculiar 
delicacy of the Thames, the infinitely 
little whitebait, at whose shrine annually 
worship all the ministers of the Crown, 
who even go down to Greenwich to in- 
dulge in a dinner at which speeches, 
supposed to be pregnant with the coming 
political policy of the year, are pro- 
nounced. 

The old manor of Greenwich was a 
royal residence in the fourteenth century, 
and it is on record that Edward I. "made 
an offering of seven shillings at each 
holy cross" in the chapel of the Virgin 
at Greenwich in 1300. There stood, in 
1433, a palace, romantically known as 
the Manor of Plaisaunce. This was 
owned by Humphrey, Duke of Glouces- 
ter, and at his death, the manor and the 
palace reverted to the Crown. Henry 
VIII., who was born at Greenwich, was 
very fond of the old town, and spent 
large sums of money in the erection, 
savs an ancient chronicler, of sumptuous 
houses. ■• Greenwich," says Lambarde, 
■• was, when Henry VIII. came to the 
throne, a pleasant, perfect, and princely 
palace." There the king married his 
first wife, Katharine of Aragon ; there he 
astonished all England by introducing 
at the feast of Christmas, in 1511, a 
masked dance " after the maner of 
Italic;" and there, in 1533, the Princess 
Elizabeth was born. Greenwich Hos- 
pital, which covers a wider area than any 
royal palace of England except Windsor, 
is. to my thinking, one of the finest 
buildings on the Thames. There is 
nothing in central London, not even 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



535 



F 
O 



f 




536 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

Somersel House, whicli can be compared Sir John Rennie remodelled, with won- 
with ii. [ts lofty cupolas and its hand- derful skill, all these docks and work- 
some colonnades rival in beauty the finesl shops, created a vast steam- reverse 

of tlu ntinental palaces: and the basin, mast-slips, and river-walls, and 

•■ painted hall " is oue of the most unique Woolwich was soon as well equipped for 

museums in Europe. From the observ- building first-class iron steamers as it 

atory there is a pretty view of the river had been tor sending forth the old 

and the perpetual procession of ships, wooden " first-rates." lint itwasfound 

It is said that, this observatory stands insufficient for the building of new ar - 

upon the site of a. tower which, in Eliza- clad ships: their enormous tonnage could 

beth's time, was called " Miretleur." and not he launched forth on so shallow and 

is supposed to he the " Tower of Mira- crowded a river; and so. in course of 

tlores."' referred to in the celebrated time, Woolwich Dock-yard fell into dis- 

roinance of ••Amadis de Gaul." use. and has now been transferred to 

In Woolwich, over opposite, hut few the War Department, ami absorbed into 

things of importance have ever hap- the domain of the Royal Arsenal. This 

pened. The town is mean and p in arsenal is the only one in the kingdom; 

appearance, straggling along the Thames all other military establishments at dock- 
side in uncomely fashion. The inhabi- yards receive their supplies from Wool- 
tants have a local witticism to the effect wich, and from Woolwich go forth all 

that "more wealth passes through the stores for the innumcrous campaigns 

Woolwich than through any other town of England in foreign lands. Ton 

in the world." Kul. unfortunately, this thousand men are here, in normal times, 

wealth is in the holds of ships which do constantly employed iii buildings and 

not stop there. The Royal Dock-yard yards, which cover three hundred and 

extends along the river for i v than a thirty three acres; and when England is 

mile on the western side of the town, making a special effort the number of 
anil, like that at Deptford, was founded workmen is nearly doubled. Here are 
by Henry VIII. For at least three the heavy artillery for the land and the 
hundred and fifty years the work of sea service, — the carriages, the shot and 
preparing and maintaining England's su- shell, the cartridges, ammunition for 
premacy at sea went on almost uninter- smallarms, torpedoes to protect the coast, 
l'uptedly in this commonplace and ordi- ami everything for the trade of war, 
narv-lookiii'_r government establishment, which is a distinct branch of trade, — a. 
Old l'cpvs. who was a "clerk of the trade to protect all other trades, 
acts of the navy," has told n> much of In the chief la hoi atory there are more 
Woolwich, and the great " business and than five hundred machines of various 
confusion" which prevailed there in his sorts in operation. There the Martini- 
time. In the latter half of the last ecu- Henry bullet is made at the rate of a 
turv, and in the long wars at the begin- million a week. and. if need lie. three 
run" 1 of the present one, Woolwich grew, millions weekly can he turned out. In 
The national strength seemed drained the cap factory are machines producing 

into it. Immense granite wharves and thirty thousand caps per I r: and the 

docks, ranges of workshops and ware- gun factories, where the great thirty- 
houses, sprang up ; and when steam and eight-ton guns are made, and w here one 
iron were brought into use in the navy, may see the eighty-oue-ton >j,uu. which, 



EirROPE W STORM AND CALM. 



537 



with a charge of three hundred pounds, 
will send a shot of one thousand four 
hundred and sixty pounds with an initial 
velocity of one thousand six hundred 
and forty feet per second, are very ex- 
tensive. The coiling machines, the fur- 
nace, with its forty-ton hammer, which 
cost £50,000, with its steam-crane, 
which can lift one hundred tons with 
its tongs, which weigh sixty tons, 
and takes a dozen men to manoeu- 
vre, with the dooi-s of its furnaces, 
which look lilce the gates of infernal 
region, with its turnery, where the tubes 
and breech-pieces of thirty-eight-tou 
guns are handled like toys, with its 
rifle ordnance factory, its uniting fur- 
naces, its pattern-room, in which exact 
duplicates of every kind of gun made in 
the arsenal are shown to those of whom 
the authorities are not suspicious, the 
forges, with their steam-hammers, their 
travelling-cranes, their lathes and shears, 
and hydro-pneumatic apparatus, all cm 
a gigantic scale, — all these form a daz- 
zling galaxy of wonders, and confirm 
the opinion of the visiting foreigner that 
order and foresight are the first qualities 
in the Anglo-Saxon mind. 

The stores, or Control Department, as 
it is called in the military jargon, form a 
most extraordinary spectacle at Wool- 
wich, and from these stores ten thousand 
troops can he at any moment supplied 
with everything that is necessary for im- 
mediate entrance on a campaign. This 
is not so astonishing now as compared 
with the matchless preparations for war 
in ( iennany ; but at the time when it was 
first done, there was nothing like it, or 
at all to compare with it, in all Europe. 

But we must not linger at Woolwich 
longer than to peep at the garrison 
buildings and the Royal Artillery bar- 
racks. — one of the few imposing struct- 
ures in the town, glance at the Crimean 
memorial, the bronze statue of John 



Hell, or at the great bronze gun captured 
in India in 1828, or at the Royal Artil- 
lery .Museum and the Military Academy, 
founded by George II. It was at this 
academy that the unlucky Prince Im- 
perial, the son of Napoleon III., finished 
his military education as a queen's 
scholar, and his school-fellows paraded 
at Chiselhurst when his body was brought 
home from South Africa, and buried be- 
side that of his father in the new home 
of the' Imperial exiles. 

Ilatton, the writer, in the early part 
of the last century, said that London 
with Westminster resembled the shape 
of a great whale. Westminster being the 
under-jaw ; St. James's Park, the mouth ; 
Pall Mall, etc., northward, the upper- 
jaw ; Cock and Pie Fields, or the meet- 
ing of the seven streets, the eye ; the 
rest, with the city, and southward to 
Smithfield, the body ; and thence east- 
ward to Liinehouse, the tail; ••and it is 
probably," he adds, in his quaint descrip- 
tion, "• according to the proportion, the 
largestof towns, as the whale is of lishes." 

From a point below Woolwich to Lon- 
don Bridge the river is known as the 
Port of London, — a port six and a 
half miles long, with a depth, at low 
water, of even twelve feet at London 
Bridge. The tide of this Thames is 
quite remarkable. The water rises twice 
a day to the height of seventeen feet at 
the Bridge, and, in extreme spring tides, 
to twenty-two feet. On this Lower 
Thames one finds perpetual amusement 
in the contemplation of tin' docks, on 
which more than 8,000,000 sterling 
have been expended in the present cent- 
ury. Nearly all of them are on the 
east side of the town, and have been 
brought into existence by joint-stock 
companies. Altogether they cover about 
eight hundred acres. The most exten- 
sive of them, the West India Docks, 
begun in 1800 by William Pitt, were 



538 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



finished in two years. Their area, of 
three hundred acres, is surrounded bv 
walls five feet (hick, and the chief im- 
port dock is one hundred and seventy 
yards lone- by one hundred and sixty- 
it is said that ill the ware- 
houses of these docks one 

hundred and eighty thousand 
tons of goods can be stored at 
once. In 1813 



six wide 




GUARDIANS OF TTITC TOWEI!. 

revenue returned on a capital of £1,200,- 
000 of this company was £141), 000. The 
St. Catherine's Docks, close by the 
frowning ancient Tower of London, and 
near the centre of the great commercial 
metropolitan market, furnish an admir- 
able instance of the resistless [power of 

commerce in making room for itself, 
even in the most crowded centres. The 
ei cation of these docks, found necessary 



in Isl'7, necessitated the displacement 
of nearly twelve thousand inhabitants 
and the pulling down of thirteen hun- 
dred houses. The Surrey, the London, 
the East India, the Commercial Docks, 
all cover scores of acres ; and in one 
single warehouse in the London Docks 
one hundred and twenty thousand chests 
of tea can he stored atone time. These 
are the great wine docks of London ; and 
here from forty to forty-live thousand 
]ii[ies of wine are always in stock. 

London Bridge is certainly one of the 
most curious and remarkable spectacles 
in Europe. Seen from one of the bridges 
above, upon the Thames, or from the 
shore, it presents to the view an endless 
procession of loaded vans, drays, car- 
riages, carts, and omnibuses ; and, as one 
cannot, see the wheels of these vehicles, 
they seem to he moving by magic along 
the stone coping of the great structure. 
In the immediate neighborhood of this 
artery of travel, spanning the stream, 
are some of the noblest of the London 
monuments. The Tower is not far 
away ; the streets by the water side are 
crowded with traffic to an extent the 
description of which would seem almost 
incredible. Blockades exist for hours; 
draymen expend their vital force in 
oaths innumerable. All in vain : the 
avenues of London are too small for the 
commerce which encumber them. Dorc 
was fond of wandering in this part of 
London, and once told me how much he 
enjoyed the stupefaction of the team- 
sters, who, engaged in a blockade, and 
wedged in among other teams, could rot 
prevent him from sketching them, but 
Mew into a passion and shook their lists 
at him. This weird and curious quarter 
of London especially struck the fancy 
of the great French artist, who has left 
on record most truthful impressions of 
the long and narrow alleys lined with high 
warehouses. 



EUROPE J.V STOUM AND CALM. 



r>:u> 



CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE. 



Up River. — The Historic Thames. — The University Races. Oxford and Cambridge. — The Great R;u c 
of 1869. — Harvard vs. Oxford. — Putney. — Wimbledon. — Hammersmith. — Mortlake.— Thames 
Tactics. — A Reminiscence of t Iharles Dickens. — His rowers as an After Dinner ; pcaker. 



ABOVE Blackfriar's bridge the 
Thames has been fringed within 
the last twenty years by a stately em- 
bankment which rivals the handsomest 
quays of Paris, Berlin, and Vienna. 
Ranged along this fine embankment are 
the historic gardens of the Temple, with 
their monumental new structures in 
si liking contrast with the older, dingy, 
and more interesting ones of Somerset 
House, one of the finest monuments in 
London, with huge masks of oceau and 
the eight rivers, the Thames, the num- 
ber, the Meuse, the Medway, the Dee, 
the Tweed, the Tyue, and the Severn, 
ou the quay stones of the river arches or 
water gates. This Thames front of 
Si unerset House is enriched with columns, 
and pilasters in Venetian style. In 
front is a terrace under which is the 
central water gate, and on the balustrade 
is a colossal figure of the Thames. This 
is one of the few monuments which were 
created in the reign of George III., and 
in this handsome building the Inland 
Revenue has its home. Here the births, 
deaths, and marriages of the inhabitants 
of England are inscribed. Just above 
Somerset House is the Waterloo Bridge, 
which is led up to by Wellington street, 
a fact which never fails to attract the 
attention of Frenchmen visiting London. 
The new embankment describes a stately 
curve, and sweeps around past the new 
handsome quarter where once stood 
Northumberland House, but now filled 
with mammoth hotels and clubs, and 



theatres as fine as those of Vienna or 
Paris; past the Whitehall Gardens and 
the governmental quarters, and finishes 
at Westminster Bridge, just beyond which 
stand the Houses of Parliament. ( )n 
the other side of the Thames we have 
a London, unimpressive, yet startling 
in magnitude, a labyrinth of streets, 
all of which look very much alike, 
with undecorated house fronts, with 
shops which seem all cut out after 
one pattern, with here and there vast 
breweries, potteries, warehouses, and 
an occasional mansion rising out of the 
surrounding mediocrity. Everywhere 
one is confronted with the spectacle of 
the daily struggle for food on the pint 
of the very poor. Everywhere is the 
same sharp contrast between the luxury 
attendant upon wealth, and the crime 
attendant upon long-continued poverty. 
The great rambling structure over the 
Thames opposite Westminster Palace 
attracts your attention ; it is a hospital. 
Further up is Lambeth with the Arch- 
bishop's Palace, — Lambeth, a, great city 
by itself, confronted on the other side by 
Westminster, another vast community, 
and one, it is said, where mote wretched- 
ness and misery tire concentrated than in 
any other part >>t' London. Yet through 
it run avenues filled with luxurious houses 
and with splendid hotels. Out of it 
rises the great gray Abbey, and near by 
tire the breezy expanses of St. James's 
Park ; and in ten minutes one may walk 
out of slums such as no other capital iu 



540 



FJ'ROl'K IN STORM AND CALM. 



Christendom can show, to the very gates onslaught made upon them by Charles 

of Buckingham Palace, where, in the Reade, perhaps because so many chatn- 

scason, the Queen receives, at what she is pions who were thought Id lie certain of 

pleased to call a Drawing-room, those long and robust life have turned up as 

ladies who have arrived at the felicity of confirmed invalids of slinky tenure of 

:i court presentation. existence just after their University 

Passing in review our journey up the course and boat triumphs were over. 
Thames, we find that the first con- It is not difficult to understand why 
spicuous object on the stream was Wool- the inhabitants of an island and the 
wich, and midway between Woolwich greatest sailors in the world should be 
the Arsenal, and Windsor the Palace, intensely interested in a contest of oars- 
is the Parliament House, whence the men ; but the stranger is struck with the 
p ilicy of the nation radiates upu aids to vehemence of opinion manifested on this 
the sovereign and downwards to the engi- weight y topic even by cabmen, and huck- 
neers and artisans, who put the national sters, and persons who might be supposed 
will m force. But we will come back to confine their interest to subjects con- 
to the Parliament later on, and meantime nccted with their daily toil. Charles 
continue >ur journey up the stream past, Dickens reported that, shortly before the 
the walls of gloomy Millbank Prison, international contest on the Thames in 
past Chelsea, with its memories of Car- 18G9 he heard one cabman confidentially 
lvl •. aul its rows of uiiromantic-looking remark to another that he hoped the 
houses, and on to Putney, Hammersmith, Americans would win. hut that he was 
Mortlake, Richmond, Twickenham, .and sure they would not. The cabman's cou- 
llampton Court, picturesque and verdur- fident prophecy was correct : the Ameri- 
ous resorts, which seem to belong to cans did not win, and undoubtedly 
another world when compared with the because of the reasons which were 
oozy marshes and mud-flats of the lower assigned by their English critics. There 
stream. The stretch of river from Put- was never a race in the whole calendar 
ncy, or, more properly speaking, from of the annual contests which awakened 
Hammersmith Bridge t < Mortlake, is so much interest and national feeling as 
specially renowned as the annual contest this one, in which the trans-Atlantic 
ground of the University crews; and cousins had at first seemed to make so 
the charms of this lied of stream have good a figure. Their training was watched 
been recited in [nose and verse by a with jealous scrutiny, and renowned 
hundred authors. All classes of London boatmen like Harry Kelly indulged in 
society are annually agitated over several daily mysterious bulletins, all of which 
events which belong to the domain of seemed to point to the conclusion that 
spoil, and in othel countries would the laurels would be carried over sea. 
interest only a certain class. In the The old University of Harvard hail sent 
British Islands no one feels aliove attend- a goodly crew in the highest sense repre- 
ing a horse-race, and aquatic sports are sentative of the whole country. There 
distinctly within the range of aristocratic was even a man from far-off Oregon, 
amusements. — a man who had but to appear on the 

Of late years boating and boat-racing river to excite admiring cheers, for he 

have ceased to lie classed as healthful wasa young Hercules. Trainers, wi iters, 

sports, perhaps because of the furious and loungers spent a merr\ three weeks' 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



54] 



time at ancient Putney, walking over 
the breezy downs of Wimbledon, and 
along the banks of the stream, drop- 
ping in at boating-dubs, lunching in 
balconies overlooking reedy hills, or 
following at respectful distance the flash- 
ing oar blades of the practising crews. 
The International race was appointed 
for the midsummer season, long after 
the usual time for the University race, 
and only a few weeks before I he fashion- 
able world usually departs from the 
capital. But. despite its lateness in the 
season, it seemed as if all London, if 
not all England, had come forth to wit- 
ness the contest. 

The various points along the stream 
on this University race-course are among 
the most interesting in the neighborhood 
of London. Putney, itself a part of 
the manor of Wimbledon, was a favorite 
resort of Queen Elizabeth, where she 
visited old John Lacy, a wealthy mem- 
ber of the Clothworkers' Company of 
her time ; and one of the last visits of 
her life was to Putney, where she dined 
on her way to Richmond, but two 
months before her death. At Putney the 
parliamentary generals had their head- 
quarters when Charles I. was at Hamp- 
ton Court. Cromwell long had his 
abode in a house in Putney, although 
the exact site of the edifice is unknown 
to-day. Just across the stream is Ful- 
ham, with a noble lawn shaded by mag- 
nificent trees, and a bishop's residence 
not far away. At Putney 7 , too, Gibbon 
was born, in 1737, and the house in 
which the great historian spent his youth 
and a portion of his mature life was 
afterwards the residence of the cele- 
brated traveller, Robert Wood, author of 
the "Ruins of Palmyra." At Putney 
Heath, in 1652, occurred the famous 
duel between Lord Chandos and Colonel 
Henry Compton ; and there, too, in May, 



1798. William Pitt, Prime Minister of 
England, stood up, pistol in hand, against 
William Tierney, a Member of Parlia- 
ment ; but no bloodshed ensued. Eievcn 
years later, on this same heath, two 
cabinet ministers fought a duel, and 
George Canning was shot and danger- 
ously wounded by Lord Castlereagh. 

The scene at the water-side at Putney 
in the boating season is very animated. 
The boat-houses, simple in construction, 

are thronged by smart young geuth >n in 

white and blue flannel, — gen tl, 'men whose 
faces bear evidence of prolonged Study 
or familiarity with affairs in the city, as 
well as gentlemen who appear never to 
have undertaken anything at all beyond 
the laborious task of amusing them- 
selves. The inns are odd and old to the 
American eye, but they are quiet, com- 
fortable ; and the tyrannous waiters, who 
tell you what you want, and even insist 
upon what you shall have, are service- 
able when once one has learned their 
peculiarities. This was the starting 
place for the Thames regatta when it 
was in its prime, and now the Oxford 
and Cambridge crews both take up their 
abodes at the famous Star and Garter, 
or at a private house, while undergoing 
what is called their '• coaching." For 
ten days before the celebrated race, and 
for a day or two afterwards, Putney is 
transformed int.: a kind of fair. Ambu- 
lating negro minstrels, so called, being 
merely cockney singers with their faces 
blackened, indulge in sentimental ditties, 
after which they demand sixpences and 
pennies from every passer-by. The 
classic game of Aunt Sally is in full 
swing, and boating parties, composed of 
ambitious young gentlemen who only 
know how to catch "crabs," and rosy- 
faced damsels who are afraid of the 
water, are innumerable. Then, on the 
great day, all London proceeds to 



542 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



install itself on house-roofs, on bridges, 
on towpaths, in every nook nnd coiner 
whence a glimpse of the race can be 
obtained, and indulges in unrestrained 
excitement during the few minutes of 
the struggle. Colors are worn as proudly 
as in the days of York and Lancaster, 
and the return to the centre of the town 
by every imaginable sort of craft on the 
river, by every vehicle, from an aristo- 
cratic drag to an humble omnibus, is not, 
so indecorous as the return from the 
Derby, but is characterized by almost as 
much noise and excitement. 

It was from a point just below Ham- 
mersmith bridge that the International 
race was started, and that the Harvard 
crew set. off with such a tremendously 
rapid stroke that those unfamiliar with 
Thames tactics at once accorded them 
the victory, lint the old boatmen and 
the experienced habitats of the race 
shook their heads, and said that that 
stroke would not win. It was not far 
from winning, despite its had form; hut 
the knowledge of the course and the 
peculiar slow and steady stroke of the 
Oxfords was destined to win. England 
put all its national pride into one great 
shout on that bright afternoon when the 
Oxfords came in ahead at Mortlake, 
and there could have been no doubt, if 
any had existed before, after that shout 
was heard, that, in matters of rivalry, 
England considers Americans as for- 
eigners quite as much as if there were 
a total difference of language and of 
manners, as in the case of the French or 
the Germans. 

Hammersmith is celebrated for the 
site of the old Dove coffee-house, which 
was renowned in the last century, and 
which is now a little inn called the 
Doves. A room overlooking the river 
is still pointed out as the place where 
Thomson wrote part of his " Seasons," 



composing the lines about winter while 
looking on the frozen Thames and the 
country round about, covered with snow. 
From the window out of which the old 
poet looked there is a. line view of the 
long reach of the Thames across Cliis- 
wick Eyot far away. In the parish 
church, is a monument to Lord Sheffield, 
Karl of Mulgrave, who was the com- 
mander of a squadron against the Span- 
ish Armada, and was knighted by Queen 
Elizabeth for his services. In Ham- 
mersmith, once stood the celebrated 
Brandenburg House, now demolished. 
It was built by Sir Nicholas Crispe, in 
the reign of Charles I., and was one of 
the most splendid of English residences 
even in that time of general splendor. 
Fairfax made this house his head-quar- 
ters in 1647, and many years after the 
house was given to Margaret Hughes, a 
pretty actress, of whom Pepys tells us 
indiscreetly that " she was a mighty 
pretty woman, but not modest." It was 
in Brandenburg House that Queen Caro- 
line, the wife of George IV., rested dur- 
ing her trial in the House of Loids; and 
there, too, she died, in 1821. It was 
shortly after her death that the house 
was pulled down. 

It is not far from Putney to Wimble- 
don, where the great annual contests of 
the riflemen of Great Britain are held. 
The encampment of these marksmen 
lasts for several days during the summer 
season, and is visited daily by thousands 
of people from the centre of London. 
A friendly rivalry is kept up between 
the rifle teams of the north and south, 
the British, the Scotch, and the Irish 
competing with each other in skill, and the 
whole occasion reminds an American of 
an old-fashioned training-day. Some- 
times, when the season is rainy, the 
mushroom booths and buildings of the 
encampment are but poor shelters, and 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM 



543 



the riflemen pass a miserable week. 

Now and then royalty lends its prestige 
to the matches, which are controlled 
with the greatest rigor, and the reports 
of which attract great attention in all 
parts of the kingdom. 

Among other interesting points along 
the University race-course 



resque with swans' nests, was the point 
at which the International boat-race 
between Harvard and Oxford was prac- 
tically decided. It was there that the 
struggle was the sternest, and that the 
Oxford tactics definitely asserted them- 
selves. At Chiswick lived Pop.' before 
his retirement to Twickenham, and in 
the British Museum there are many let- 
ters addressed to " Mr. Pope, in his 
house in New Buildings. Chiswick." 
There also lived Rousseau when lie 
was visiting England. The author of 
the " Nouvelle Heloise " boarded at 
a small green-grocer's shop in the 
town, and a writer of the time tells 
us that he used to sit in the shop 
and listen to the talk of the custom- 
ers, thus learning the Eng- 




BOAT-RAOE ON THE THAMES. 



on the Thames, Chiswick is of first-rate. 
Here is the famous villa of the Duke of 
Devonshire ; and here Hogarth's house is 
still shown, and his tomb is hard by his 
old residence. Chiswick Hall was once 
the residence of the masters of West- 
minster, and is better known in these 
days as the Chiswick Press, from which 
such noble specimens of English typog- 
raphy have been sent forth. The Chis- 
wick Ait or Eyot, an osier bed, pictu- 



lish language. Charles Holland, the 
celebrated comedian, was also born at 
Chiswick, and was buried from the 
church there. He was the son of a 
baker, and after the funeral Foote said, 
"We have just shoved the little baker 
into his oven." 

The end of the race-course, Mortlake. 
is but a short distance to the east of 
Richmond, and was an old residence of 
the Archbishops of Canterbury. There, 



54 I 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Anselm celebrated the famous Whitsun- 
tide of 1099, aud there, one of the arch- 
bishops died of grief, after his excom- 
munication by Pope John XXI. There, 
too, | >it-t< ni:i 1 tapestry was first woven in 
England, Sir Francis Crane having es- 
tablished works there in rivalry with the 
royal tapestry works in France. Many 
portraits of Crane and Nan Dyck were 
wrought at Mortlake in tapestry, and 
Charles I. was munificent in his patron- 
age of this establishment. The Mort- 
lake copies in tapestry of the Raphael 
cartoons are still to be met with in Eng- 
land. Under the Moor of the church in 
Mortlake lies ] )r. Dee, the most renowned 
of English astrologers; and there, too. 
is buried Partridge, the almanac-maker, 
whose burial Steele described in the 
" Tatler ; " and in the same church lies 
Phillips, the fellow-actor of Shakespeare, 
who left . as one of his bequests, a thirty- 
shilling piece in gold to the immortal 

poet. 

Shortly after the International boat- 
race, in 18G9, the defeated Harvard crew 
was entertained by one of the aristocratic 
London rowing-clubs at a grand dinner 
at the Crystal Palace, at Sydenham. 
This Crystal Palace, which was built out 
of materials taken from the edifice of the 
noted World's Fail- of 1851, crowns the 
summit of pretty Sydenham hill, not far 
from London, and contains within its 
roomy corridors a series of Egyptian, 
( ireek, Spanish. Assyrian, Byzantine, and 
mediaeval courts illustrative of archi- 
tecture, as well as numerous museums, 
theatres, aquariums, aviaries, and other 
curiosities calculate 1 to strike the public 
fancy. In one of its stately dining-rooms, 
overlooking the beautiful gardens, the 
dinner of the conquerors was given to the 
conquered . and a goodly company of Eng- 
lish celebrities gathered to soften the 
d( feat of the strangers. It has often been 



said of Charles Dickens that he was the 
prince of after-dinner speakers: but 
never did lie distinguish himself with 
more charm than on this occasion, when 
he was sorely puzzled what to say. 
Dickens was then beginning to show 
signs of the extreme fatigue which he 
had undergone in his later years, but he 
knew how to summon, despite physical 
weariness, the vivacity which, added to 
hi> humor and felicity of diction, made 
him irresistible. 

When he arose to begin the speech of 
the evening, at tin 1 close of this banquet, 
he stooil as if completely lost and abashed 
for some two minutes, during which 
people began to whisper and to gossip, 
wondering what might be the cause of 
this strange hesitation. But, presently 
commencing in a low voice, he recited a 
simple anecdote concerning the rdle of 
Harvard in the great civil war in America. 
He told the story of the Harvard Memo- 
rial, and before he had spoken a dozen 
sentences, he had not only awakened the 
greatest sympathy but the most profound 
interest with and in the guests of the 
evening. From the pathos of the sacri- 
fices of the children of the great Univer- 
sity during the war, to sparkling and half- 
satirical comments on the uselessness of 
sending the nervous American into the 
moistEnglish climate to grapple with the 
sinewy sons of Albion, was a leap which 
Dickens made with dexterity and safety ; 
and when he sat down he had not 
only apologized for the defeat of the 
Americans as well as anyone of them- 
selves could have done it, but he had 
given, in complete and admirable fashion, a 
little glimpse of the university life beyond 
the sea. — a glimpse which otherwise the 
English public would not have obtained. 
The homage and deference paid to Dick- 
ens, as a master in his art, and one of 
the foremost writers of his time, was 



KURol'K IN STORM AND CALM. 



545 



well shown on this evening, when Eng- 
lishmen of far wider accomplishments 
than his cheerfully took second place, 
bowing before the celebrity which had 
been won by the exercise for a quarter 
of a century of one of the most dazzling 
and remarkable talents of the epoch. Only 
a year later, Dickens lay ill Westminster 
Abbey, and of all the sorrowful messages 
Sent over sea, there were mine more 
sincere than these which came from the 

children of old Harvard. 

Beyond this sinuous < se devoted to 

the water-sports, the Thames bends 
away into pretty tlats. fringed with wil- 
lows and with green lawns, where, in 
summer time, the artist moors his house- 
boat, or the privileged sportsman stalks 
abroad with his gun. Far away is the 
great botanical establishment at Kew 
Gardens, fringed round about with 
handsome towns and villas, which look 
seductive from a distance, but are. when 
closely examined, proved to be built in 
flimsiest fashion. All London, indeed, 
is hemmed with loosely and carelessly 
built houses, which rent for modest 
sums, but which are soon out of repair. 
Building is a gigantic speculation, dear 
to the heart of the London capitalist, 
but it has brought sorrow to thousands 
of moneyed men. who have desired too 
large returns for their reckless expendi- 
ture. 

Kew has a rather ugly-looking church, 
in which the organ, long used by Handel, 
still makes music. In the church-yard 
lies the great Gainsborough, landscape 
and portrait painter, and there formerly 

st 1 Suffolk House, the residence of 

one of the great Dukes of Suffolk. An 
old chronicle tells us that, in 1595, 
Queen Elizabeth dined at Kew with Sir 
John Puckering, Lord Keeper of the 



Great Seal. "Her entertainment for 
that meal was great, and exceedingly 
costly. Al her first lighting, she had a 
tine fanne, with a handle garnisht with 
diamonds. When she was in the middle 
way between the garden gate and the 
house, there came running towards her 
one with a nosegay in his hand, and deliv- 
ered yt unto her with a short, well- 
neued speech. Yt had in yt a very rich 
Jewell, with many pendants of unfirl'd 
diamonds, valewed at £400 at least. 
After dinner, in the privey chamber, he 
gave her a fair pair of virginals. In her 
bedchamber, he presented her with a 
gown and juppin, which things were 
pleasing to her Hignes ; and, to grace 
his lordship the more, she of herself 

took from him a salt, a s[ ic, and a 

forcke of faire agatte." 

Kew lias been the residence of innu- 
merable celebrities. There Sir William 
Chambers long had charge of the forma- 
tion of the botanical garden ; and in 
1 76.3 lie published an account of the 
various temples and ornamental build- 
ings which he hail erected in them. 
George III. for a long time lived at Kew 
House, and appears to have been very 
much the slave of his servants, for it is 
recorded of him that, after the death of 
his head-gardener, he made a personal 
visit to the nnder-gardener, and in a 
tone of much gratification said, " Brown 
is dead : now yon and I can do what we 
please here." After George III.'s death, 
until the accession of the present Queen, 
Kew was apparently neglected. In 1840, 
the gardens were adopted as a national 
establishment, and. under the able man- 
agement of the present directors, the 
botanical establishment lias become the 
richest, if not the most beautiful, in all 
Europe. 



54(3 



EUROPE AV STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER SIXTY. 



Richmond ml its Romance— Rich ml Hill. -Th 

Thames Valley. -Twickenham. -The Orli 
Hill. Hampton Court. — Wolsey aiul< Iromwc 

IT is a little more than eight miles 
fr< in Hyde Park corner to 1 £ i< -I i- 
mond : hut the transition is as great as 
it' th • distance were live hundred miles. 
The aspect of gloom and severity which 
reigns in the metropolis the greater part 
of the year is entirely left behind, and 
one has before him, on Richmond Hill, 
a vast and noble prospect of parks and 
winding rivers, of stately trees, pretty 
bowers, and comfortable villas. 

There is nothing exactly like the view 
from Richmond Hill to be found in any 
other part of Europe. The mellowness 
of the landscape, with its prolusion of 
beautiful elms, is very striking; the 
atmospheric effects are soft, and lend a 
kind of enchantment to the great vista 
of the park. Overlooking the most 
beautiful section of tins pleasure ground 
is the famous " Star and Garter" Hotel, 
renowned in the annals of gastronomy, 
and the scenes of many famous reunions 
of statesmen, and of the literary and 
artistic guilds. Mr. Barnett Smith, in 
his "Life of Gladstone," tells us of a 
speech made by the Premier when he 
was a much younger man, at the '• Star 
.and Garter," and of the phenomenal 
impression which the eloquence of the 
statesman, afterwards to be so cele- 
brated, then produced. It was on the 
occasion of the visit of the Emperor of 
Russia to England, and at his dinner 
Mr. Gladstone proposed the toast of the 
" Prosperity of the Church of St. James 
in Jerusalem, and of her first bishop." 



■ " Star and Garter." — The Richmond Theatre. — The 
:ms Kxilcs anil Their English Home. — Strawhcrry 
11. — The Royal Residence. — Windsor and [ts Origin. 

'• Never," says the author, •■ was heard 
a more exquisite speech. It flowed like 
a gentle and translucent stream : and. as 
in the second portion, he addressed 
Alexander directly, representing the 
greatness ami the difficulty of (he charge 
confided to him, the latter at, first 
covered his face from emotion ; then 
arose and returned thanks with dignity 
as well as with feeling. Subsequently 
we drove back to town in the clearest 
starlight, Gladstone continuing with 
unabated animation to pour forth har- 
monious thoughts in melodious tone." 

Richmond is said to have got its 
present name by command of Henry 
VII., who, before the battle of Bosworth, 
was Earl of Richmond in Yorkshire; 
but its old name shows that it was held 
in high esteem before the tenth century, 
for the splendor of its views and the 
charm of its great forests. It was 
called Syenes, which is supposed to be a 
corruption of the German Schon. There 
Edward I. had a country house : Edward 
III. died in the palace there : Richard II. 
lived in Richmond in the early years of 
his reign : there his first wife Ann of 
Bohemia died, whereupon he cursed the 
place, and had the palace torn down. 
Then Henry V. had it rebuilt, and 
founded several " Houses of Religion." 
Early in 1 192, Henry VII. held a -rand 
tournament at Richmond, "upon the 
green without the -ate of the said 
manor." There Philip I., King of Cas- 
tile, staved for three months while the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



047 



negotiations for his marriage with the 
Lady Margaret were in progiess ; and 
there the Spanish monarch was enter- 
tained with great magnificence, ami many 
notable feats of anus took place at the 
tournaments held in his honor. 

Henry VIII. held a series of splendid 
entertainments at Richmond, and there 
Cardinal Wolsey came now and then to 
reside, by permission of the King, after 
he had presented his newly-erected palace 
of Hampton Court to Henry. All 
through the succeeding centuries Rich- 
mond appears to have been a favorite 
resort for royalty. James I., in Kilo, 
gave Richmond to his son, Prince Henry. 
In 1647 tlie Parliament ordered the 
palace to be made ready for the recep- 
tion of the King, but Charles refused to 
go there, contenting himself with an 
occasional hunting excursion in the then 
new park. At the lime of (he restora- 
tion the palace was dismantled, and the 
accounts of the time say that "several 
boat-loads of rich and curious effigies, 
formerly belonging to Charles I., but 
since alienated," were taken from Rich- 
mond to Whitehall in 1660. Thus, more 
than a century before the great French 
Revolution, the English did exactly for 
Richmond what the French were destined 
to do for Marly, the old palace in which 
Louis XIV. had spent his declining years. 

Richmond Palace is said to have 
covered an area of more than ten acres. 
In the middle of the eighteenth century 
" Richmond Green " wasoneof the most 
fashionable of suburban resorts, and 
there the line gentlemen of die period 
came to play whist at the clubs on Satur- 
days and Sundays. " You will naturally 
ask," says one of the chroniclers of that 
tim ', " why they cannot play at whist 
in London on these two days as we'll as 
on tile other five. Indeed, I cannot tell 
you, except that it is so established a 



fashion to go out of town at the end of 

the week thai people do go, though il be 
only into another town." 

Richmond Lodge was a favorite abode 
of Caroline, wife of George II.. and 
there she had costlier buildings than had 
been previously seen in England, erected 
on a. gigantic scale. There she created 
a ••hermitage." a "Merlin's cave," a, 
"grotto," a dairy, and a menagerie, 
(he interior of the "hermitage" was 
ornamented with busts of Newton and 
Locke ; and the presiding genius of 
the locality was Robert Boyle, his head 
encircled -with a halo of gilded rays. 
George III., who had little sympathy 
with the improvements made by Queen 
Caroline, had diem all swept away, and, 
in a fit of spite, destroyed the terrace 
which she had buiit along the river, — a 
terrace which was said to be. at that 
time, the. finest in Europe. 

Beyond the entrance of the gates of 
the Richmond Park, on Richmond Hill, 
is the prospect of which old Thomson 
wrote in his somewhat conventional verse 
a century and a half ago. Thomson and 
Turner have both celebrated the beauti- 
ful landscape, and, if they could come 
back to earth now, would be shocked to 
see that the wavy ocean of tree-tops has 
been intruded upon here and there by 
prosaic lines of house-fronts. The view 
up the great valley of the Thames from 
Richmond Hill is thus described by Mr. 
Thorne in his charming work on the en- 
virons of London: "A thickly-wooded 
tract, relieved by open meadows and 
gentle undulations, where the eye rests 
always on the tranquil surface of the 
river, with its eyots. skiffs, and swal- 
lows; and the beach-clad hills of Buck- 
inghamshire, the Surrey heaths and 
downs, and the Berkshire heights, over 
which dimly visible through a veil of 
purple haze — 



54b 1 



I / HOPE I.X STOH 1/ AXf) CM. M. 



■■ ■ M.ajestic Windsor lifts his princely brow.' 

'■'Hampton House,' with the elm- 
groves and avenues of elm-walks on 
one side of the river, and on the other 
the dark massive forms of Hampton 
Court, and the lone chestnut-avenues of 
liiislirv Park, are as prominent and effec- 
tive features in the landscape as when 
Thomson wrote. But the ' raptured 
eye exulting ' looks from the terrace in 
vain for 'huge Augusta' or 'the sister 
hills which skirt her plain,' or even 
'lofty Harrow,' though the lights may 
be made out from the garden terrace 
of the Star and Garter, and in clear 
weather from some part or other of the 
park. The view is one of a wide ex- 
panse of quiet, cultivated scenery. Its 
charm is not dependent on the hour or 
the season. It may receive an added 
grace or assume ;i nobler beauty at cer- 
tain seasons, or in any exceptional at- 
mospheric phenomena : but it is alike 
exquisite, seen, as we have seen it, in 
the earliest dawn or broad daylight, 
when bathed in the crimson glory of a 
sinking sun, or lit by a full or waning 
moon ; in the first freshness of the 
spring, the full leafiness of summer, the 
sober gold of autumn, or the sombre 
depth of advancing winter." 

At the Star and Garter Hotel Lou- 
is Philippe stayed for several months 
after his flight from Paris ; there Napo- 
leon III., when he was a struggling 
prince, now and then had apartments, 
when he had a windfall of money. The 
famous " Four-in-Hand Club" used to 
drive down and dine there every Sunday, 
and near by Sir Joshua Reynolds gave his 
pleasant little dinner parties in the sun- 
shine, gathering about him the most 
eminent of his admirers. One of the 
few landscapes which Reynolds painted 
was a view from the drawing-room win- 



dow of his Richmond villa. Mrs. Fitz- 
herbert lived on Richmond Hill when 
she won the affections of the Prince of 
Wales, who afterwards became George 
IV. At the noted "Queensberry House" 
there was a brilliant coterie, for many 
years, until the Duke of Queensberry 
grew tired of his country-seat, where he 
he hail entertained Pitt, Chatham, the 

Duchess of Gordon, and other celebri- 
ties of the time ; and one day he left it 
forever, saying that there was nothing 
to make so much of in the Thames, and 
that he ■• was quite weary of it. and 
its flow, flow, How, always the same." 

The neighborhood is tilled with splen- 
did mansions, each one of which has 
its history and legend, too long to re- 
cite here. 

The Richmond Theatre has been fa- 
mous for more than two centuries and a 
half. The present edifice was built by 
Garrick, and there Garrick, Liston, Mrs. 
Siddons, Mrs. Jordan, and Charles 
Matthews often appeared. Charles Mat- 
thews the elder made his "first appear- 
ance on any stage" at Richmond; and 
there Edmund Kean died, in a small 
room in a house attached to the theatre. 
Kean had, in his latest years, played 
many a time to " a beggarly account of 
empty benches." 

It is a. pleasant walk through these in- 
tensely interesting regions, from Rich- 
mond t<> Twickenham, a village prettily 
placed on the Thames, between the high 
ground of Strawberry Hill and a. range 
of verdant meadows backed by Rich- 
mond Hill and Park, on the other side of 
the river. Horace Walpole was the 
genius of this locality, and has done 
more than any one else to make Twick- 
enham celebrated. It is but a small 
hamlet, once owned by the monks of 
Canterbury, but, when the monasteries 
were suppressed, it was annexed to 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



)49 



Hampton Court, aud Charles I. gave it 
tci his Queen. Then it wasseized bythe 
Parliament, and, after many changes of 
ownership, finally reverted to the crown. 
Twickenham is chiefly interesting as a 
favorite' resort for exiles from the conti- 
nent during this century. There Louis 
Philippe came in 1800, when lie was 
Duke of Orleans, with his two brothers 
whom lie had met in London for the first 
time since their exile from France after 
the great revolution. He took up his 
alh.de there, and their resilience came to 
he known as "Orleans House." Des- 
tiny brought Louis Philippe hack to it 
again when he was a second time an ex- 
ile, half a century after his first visit. 
The old king bought it in 1852, of 
Lord Kilmorey, who went to live near 
by, while the present Due d'Aumale took 
np Lis residence in Orleans House, and 
there held, until after 1870, when he re- 
turned to France, a kind of literary 
court. His spacious picture-gallery, his 
superb collection of ancient and modern 
pictures and drawings, miniatures, enam- 
els. MSS., and his exquisite library, 
were celebrated throughout Europe. 
Gradually all the members of the ex- 
iled family grouped themselves at 

Twickenham. The C tede Paris lived 

in York House, the Prince de Joinville 
at Mount Lebanon, and the Due de Ne- 
mours at Bushey Hill. Twickenham was 
the head-quarters of ( )rleans politics, and 
so great was its prestige in the eyes of 
the Bourbons that Don Carlos of Spain 
went to live there in 1876, after his un- 
successful campaigns in the Carlist cause 
among the Basques in the Pyrenees. 
Pope's villa, at Twickenham, is also cele- 
brated. There the little poet resided 
until his death in 1711. and there he 
worked in his garden in the internals of 
verse-making and the entertainment of 
his friends. 



Almost every travelled American has 

visited Strawberry Hill, where Horace 

Walpole had his famous Gothic Castle, 
from which he used to indite the biting 
epistles which became classics in Eng- 
lish ; and not far away lived Lady Mary 
Wortley Montagu, (nice Pope's fast 
friend, but later <>n his hitter enemy. 
Charles Dickens lived in Twickenham 
Park in 1838, and there Thackeray. 
Douglas Jerrold, Landseer, Stanfleld, 
and Maclise, had, according to the testi- 
mony of John Foster. •• many friendly 
days " together. 

Further up stream lies Hampton ( oiu t 
and the village of Hampton, from which 
is a pleasant view of the long reaches of 
flic Thames, with their lines of little 
islands or eyots, and the broad meadows 
on either hand, tin' elms of Bushey Park, 
the towers and prettily-massed roofs of 
Kingston, aud the wooded hills of Sur- 
rey. At Hamilton proper is " Garrick 
Villa," which, in Garrick's time, and 
when lie came frequently there, was 
known as Hamilton House. There the 
noted actor built an ambitious Corin- 
thian portico, and had handsome 
grounds laid out. On the lawn he 
erected a Grecian temple, in which he 
shrilled a statue of Shakespeare, for 
which it is said he stood as model, and 
so enraged the sculptor by his caprices 
during his sitting for the work, that the 
artist threatened to give up the commis- 
sion. There Garrick was fond of giving 
dinner and garden parties and festivals 
at night, when his grounds were lighted 
by colored lights. Thither came the 
Spanish minister of the time, the Duke 
of Grafton, Lord and Lady Rochford, 
Lady Holderness, and Horace Walpole. 
Old Johnson even penetrated to Hampton 
House, and when Garrick asked him how 
he liked it, said, "It is the leaving of such 
places that makes n death-bed terrible." 



. r )f)() EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

Hampton Court, much vidted by Claypole, died. History tells us that the 

cockneys and tourists, is a kind of gen- greal Protector had an organ taken away 

teel asvlum for the widows of distin- from Magdalen College, Oxford, and set 

guished servants of the crown. In fact, up in the great gallery at Hampton Court, 

both Hampton Court and Kew Palace are The first and second Georges liked the 

occupied by aristocratic pensioners, who palace and lived there; but, after their 

have rooms or suites of rooms assigned time, the state apartments and grounds 

them at the hands of Her Majesty. Old were much neglected. Few visitors came 

Cardinal Wolsev, when he bought to see them ; but now hundreds of thou- 

Hampton Court, was at the height of sands come yearly to the palace and the 

his power ; and it is said that, expect- park. The tapestries, of which there 

ins still greater honors, he meant to are many very beautiful ones, arc the 

make there one of the finest palaces in chief curiosities. The pictures are qu- 

Europe The structures which he raised merous aud poor. In what is called the 

at Hampton wen' the cause of the envy " Presence Chamber," there-are the cele- 

wliich linalh cost him his position, and brated "Hampton Court Beauties," a 

led him to regret his high ambition, famous series of portraits of the ladies 

Aiter a noble entertainment which Wol- of the court of William and Mary, 

sey cave at Hampton to the French am- familiar in engraving to all the world, 

bassador in 1527, King Henry himself Bui the especial jewel of the upper 

felt envious, and asked Wolsey why he Thames region, and the one most, sacred 

had built so costly a house. in the English eye. because it is the 

" To show how noble a palace a subject residence of the Queen, is Windsor, of 

may offer to his sovereign," said the which Dean Swift wrote to Stella, " that 

Cardinal, biting his lips, and handing it was in a delicious situation, but that 

over the splendid establishment to His the town was scoundrel." Modern 

Majesty, who accepted it with alacrity. Windsor town has nothing of especial 

It was at Hampton Court that Henry interest in it. Its streets look prosaic 

had the first news of the death of Wol- and uninviting enough; but here and 

sey. Thither Princess Elizabeth was there is an aucient inn like the "Garter," 

summoned from Woodstock, and urged which boasts in its records of the patrou- 

to abjure Protestantism; and there the age of old Pepys and of Sir John Fal- 

great council of the Lords was sum- staff. Not many years ago the houses 

moned by Elizabeth, in 15G8, to consider of Mistress Page and of Master Lord 

the accusations against Mary Queen of were still pointed out; but they have 

Scots, respecting the murder of Darnley. now been swept away, and but few 

There .lames 1. and Charles I. succes- memorials of the " Merry Wives of 

sively lived, and there Charles sought Windsor" remain. 

refuge with his Queen from the tumult Tl Castle" is noble and imposing. 

in London, and there, in 1647, he was a Chief of the royal palaces, wind are 

prisoner. few in number, it is also the chief by 

Hampton Court has echoed to the toot- the multitude of interesting associations 

steps of Oliver Cromwell, who was very grouped about it. It has been for seven 

fond of the palace, and came often to it ; hundred years a royal residence, the 

and there one of his daughters was mar- scene of beautiful pageants, of courtly 

ried, and his favorite daughter, Lady assemblages, of many crimes and cele- 



EUROrE IN STORM AM> CALM. 551 

brated political events. Viewed from him sign the Great Charter ; and later on 
the park it springs with incomparable the barons besieged the Castle, but it 
grace and majesty from tin' eminence held firm against them. Under Henry 
overlooking the broad valley of the III. Windsor was the finest royal dwell- 
Thames, and the little town seems to inn in Europe. There Edward I. and 
nestle confidingly at its feet. Of course Edward II. held court and councils, gave 
its origin is attributed to " William the audiences, had jousts and tournaments; 
Conqueror," as it is necessary that the there Edward III., Edward of Windsor, 
sovereign's abode should be intimately as he was called by the older historians, 
connected with the beginning of the pres- lived long and happily; and he it was 
cut aristocracy in England. It is said who built the " Hound Tower," the most 
that the Conqueror got the manor by striking feature of the castle. Here he 
exchange from the Abbot of West- held his famous "Hound Table," which 
minster, and that he then made Windsor he had conceived the fancy of rees- 
a royal residence. " But," says Thome, tablishing in imitation of Arthur and his 
"there is no evidence that his works loyal knights; and here, in 1344, was 
were more than additions to already ex- inaugurated the newly founded "Order 
isting buildings." of the ( iarter." On this occasion knights 
Under William Rufus, Windsor Castle from every part of Europe Hocked up to 
was both a prison and a palace, and Windsor, and the huntings and hawk- 
there the Earl of Northumberland was ings, the banquets and dances, and the 
long confined. Henry I. held his court tournaments lasted for many weeks. In 
at Windsor in 1106, and there sum- the bright pages of old Froissart, the 

n ed the nobles of England and those sprightly chronicler, there are many de- 

of Normandy. There Henry II. lived scriptions of the festivals at Windsor on 

anil lavished money on the vineyards St. George's Day. when the knights, 

which then flourished in the neighbor- with the king at their head, proceeded to 

hood. From Windsor Castle King John the chapel where the rites of installa- 

set out to meet the barons who made tion were performed. 



552 



EiUiil-E IN STORM AM) CALM. 



CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE. 



English Royalty. - The ( "int. - Me rials of \\ in 

— The Iloj-al Palaces. — Drawing-Roonis at 
Palace. — ' 

THpNGLAND is very far from Laving a 
-I — ^ court in the sense that the word is 
understood in Germany or even iu Austria. 
M. Philippe Daryl, in his clever book 
on public life in England, tells us that 
no court proper is to be found in that 
country, and thai it' there be one ai all 
it only exists on paper. •■The alma- 
nach," he says, - l gives us :i pompous 
list of officials, a lord chamberlain, a 
vice-chamberlaiu, :i lord steward, a mas- 
ter of the horse and a master of the 
hounds, a mistress of the robes, a dean 
of the Chapel Royal, physicians and 
surgeons in ordinary, controllers, treas- 
urers, equerries, gentlemen in waiting, 
the grooms of the chamber, a poet 
laureate, pages, women of the bed 
chamber, maids of honor, etc. Every- 
one of these draws a salary and partakes 
generally of the fortunes of the cabinet; 
but the duties are practically sinecures, 
ami. except on tare occasions, neither 
regular service nor regular attendance is 
demanded. They recall in nothing the 
traditions of Louis XIV." Doubtless 
this is in some measure tine; yet there 
is none the less the strictest of court 
etiquettes kept, up at Windsor, and it is 
accounted the highest honor which a 
distinguished civilian can receive to be 
asked to the Castle and presented to 
the reigning sovereign, and possibly be 

asked to stay to dinner. As for the 
military people of distinction, they all 
look forward to the time when they shall 
get from the august resident therein 



Isor.— St. George's I Impel. — The Park at Windsor. 
Buckingham Palace. — Memorials "f Buckingham 



some pleasing message. The humblest 
railway or steamship servant wounded in 
an accident, the soldi ;r stretched out on 
some far off plain, or the general who 
has just carried through some great 
enterprise in the interest of that trade 
which always follows just behind the 
army — all look to Windsor for their 
reward. In France, the different min- 
isters intervene between the chief of 
State and the recipient of favor or 
honors, but in England the messages 
often come so direct that they seem to 
bring the citizen into closest relation 

with that majesty for which he has such 

profound respect. Furthermore, al- 
though a court nniy not he kept up in 
the pompous and ornate fashion of 
Berlin at all times at Windsor, there is 
a court circle which cannot he broken 
into, oik' which is always maintained 
above and outside the sphere of ordi- 
nary conventional society, and which 
has its expression in the levees or draw- 
ing-rooms in the parlors of Buckingham 
Palace or St. James. 

Queen Victoria has associated her 
name with Windsor almost as closely as 
that of tiny of her predecessors. Eliza- 
beth was delighted with Windsor Castle. 
and had a line gallery and banqueting 
house built there as well as many ear- 
dens laid out. all of which have long ago 
been swept from existence. She it was 
who built the north terrace, and in her 
new gallery in the latest years of the six- 
teenth century. Master William Shake- 



EUROPE IX STORM .l.\7> CALM. ■'•>•> 

speare's sprightly comedy of "The Merry ments, its images, and its costly fittings. 

Wives of Windsor " \v:is played by Ilcr and the soldiersof the Parliament bnntecl 

Majesty's command, the poet himself the deer in the royal park and forest, 

directing the rehearsals and the Qrsl To Windsor the body of Charles I- was 

performance. A few years later Ben brought, shortly after his execution, and 




QI'EEX VICTORIA. 
I'hotogmpli lij \. tiassano, OW nrmcl street, r.onrton. 



Jonson's "Music of the Gipsies" was was carried, on the 9th of February, 

presented at Windsor, having previously 1649, from the great hall, where Charles 

been played before King .lames on two had so often held stately levees, to St. 

occasions. When the Parliamentary George's Chapel, where it was buried 

Generals came in they stripped St. without bell or book. 

George's Chapel of its plate, its vest- History tells u> that Charles II. took 



.">."> 1 EUROPE IN STORM \\I> CALM. 

the sum of £70,000 sterling, voted centre of the chapel stands the sarcoph- 

after the Restoration, for the removal agus of the Prince, bearing a recum- 

of the iindy of Charles I. to :i fitting bent statue, habited inn suit of armor, 

sepulchre ; bill that noble monarch The body of the good Prince does not 

never rendered any account of the repose here, but in the Royal Mausoleum, 

money. Under George III. there was a at Frogmore. 

veritable court at Windsor, and it. used That portion of Windsor in which the 

to assemble on Sunday afternoons on the Queen resides is nut very often open to 

terrace In listen to the music of the mili- the public, for the Queen spends the 

tary bands, the King with theQueen,the greater portion of her time at Windsor, 

children, and the royal suite promenad- visiting her castle in the Northern High- 

iii". up and down a lane composed of his lands, and simple, but pretty Osborne 

loyal subjects, who bowed low as he House, on the shores of tile Isle of 

passed them. Wight, only for comparatively brief 

Under the reigu of the present Queen periods. The private life of the Quejii 

great improvements have been made at is described as simple in marked degree, 

Windsor. 'The Prince Consort was very made up of the same quiet and refined 

fond of tin' old building, and sugg !Sted pleasures which lill the life of any lady 

most of the changes, among which are of distinction, interspersed, however, 

tin' restoration of the lower ward, that of by seasons of hard work ; for the Queen 

St. George's chapel, the Wolsey chapel, is not a queen in vain, and has papers 

which is a kind of memorial of the Prince manifold to sign, and iu troublous times 

Consort himself, and manj' of the changes many complaints to hear and questions 

in the upper ward, the entrance hall, and to ask. She has a special wire from the 

the state staircase. Prince Albert's im- Houses of Parliament to Windsor, and 

provements were very skilful, and have when she is at the Castle knows all tint 

added immensely to the beauty of the fine is going on a very short time after it 

range of buildings, which stretches fifteen occurs. At any hour of the night or 

hundred feet from east to west along the day she may read from the slip of paper 

high table-land, around which, on its which rolls out from the machine the 

western end, tin' Thames makes a great story of the debates, the accidents, and 

sweep. incidents which have occurred in the 

St. George's chapel is often enough kingdom. All bills, orders in council, 

described in our days, as it is the scene etc., are drawn up in her name, according 

of christenings, marriages, and funerals to the pleasant formula which assumes 

in the very numerous branches of the thatshe governs as well as reigns. She 

royal family. It is a noble burial-place has to attend to the post every day or 

of kings, and in its vaults lie Henry VIII., two, with as much care as if she wen' 

Jane Seymour, Chailes I.. George III . the head of a commercial establish- 

George IV., William IV.. Queens Char- raent. Foreign despatches, proclama- 

lotte and Adelaide, and many lesser dig- tions, ratifications, decrees, letters-patent, 

nitaries. On the Albert Me rial chapel, orders for execution, — all these great 

or Hie Tomb House, as it was formerly and small affairs require the "Victoria 

called, the Queen has expended large R." before they are legal. "In sum- 

siuns iu restoration or decoration, in mer," M. Daryl fells us, "she signs 

memory of her husband ; and in the these papers, seated in a pretty tent 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



.1.1.) 



pitched on the lawn at Balmoral." We 
are told that she is very fond of letter- 
writing, and keeps up an enormous cor- 
respondence with her German relatives. 

The Audience chamber at Windsor is 
decorated with Verrio's conventional 
ceilings, but the walls are hung with the 
riches! tapestry from the Gobelins, and 
illustrate the life of Ksther. Here, too, 
are many portraits of members of the 
English royal family, ami a noble picture 
of Mary Queen of Scots. In the Van- 
dyck room are no less than twenty-two 
portraits by the celebrated painter; and 
in the Queen's state drawing-room are 
pictures of the different Georges. The 
fondness of the English for recording 
the glory of their Continental campaigns 
is illustrated in the Waterloo chamber, 
which is a fine hall used for state ban- 
quets. Around this hall are ranged the 
pictures of the sovereigns, the generals, 
and the politicians who took part in the 
war that ended at Waterloo. 

The Presence chamber, or Court hall- 
room, bung with beautiful tapestries 
and ornamented with granite vases ; 
.St. George's hall, more than two hun- 
dred feet long, with its trophies of arms 
and armor, its shields and banners, em- 
blazoned with the arms of all the knights 
from the foundation of the celebrated 
order; the Guard chamber, filled with 
military and naval trophies; and the 
Queen's Presence chamber, — are the 
only looms ordinarily shown to the 
public. But beyond them lie the real 
treasures: the Queen's and King's clos- 
ets ; beautiful cabinets filled with pictures 
by Holbein, Claude Lorraine, Titian, 
Rembrandt, Tintoretto, Rubens; and 
the Rubens room, the Council cham- 
ber, the Throne room, which contains 
some superb portraits by Gainsborough ; 
the great Corridor, five hundred and 
twenty feet long, lined with busts of 



noted personages ; the Plate room, which 
contains the nautilus cup of Benvenuto 
Cellini ; the Library, the Raphael cabi- 
net, — these are not exceeded in magnifi- 
cence and interest even by the superb 
ducal residences in England. Many of 
the dukes have palaces which compare 
very favorably, however, with the other 
royal abodes. 

.Miles away to the south of the town 
stretches Windsor's great park, full of 
the noblest and wildest forest scenery, 

breezy slopes, over which herds of deer 
wander, great avenues with the boughs 
of trees interlocked above, cool glades 
through which little brooklets glide, and 
throughout the whole an atmosphere of 
refined age and calm. Here ami (here 
the ancient elms are decaying and have 
fallen ; hut the forest keepers take ten- 
derest care of them. Many of the trees 
are inscribed with brass plates and bear 
especial names, like " the oak of Wil- 
liam the Conqueror," and " Queen Vic- 
toria's Tree." 

Of this park, and of Windsor as seen 
from it, M. Daryl, in his admirable 
book, says: '-With its foliated pas- 
sages, its winding corridors, its grand 
round tower, iis little window-panes 
sunk into lead, its irregular roofs and 
innumerable steps, this immense palace is 
assuredly not a model of simplicity or of 
architectural regularity, lint what a 
grand appearance it has upon the ter- 
race heights overlooking the Thames, 
when the setting sun is lighting up its 
windows, which rise high above the level 
of the forest trees 1 How much this 
mass of feudal walls and modern build- 
ings resembles the British constitution, 
and how that fantastical decoration 
seems the natural surroundings of that 
sleeping beauty, the English monarchy. 
More than Westminster Abbey or St. 
Paul's — more than anv edifice — Windsor 



556 EUROPE /.V STORM AND CALM. 

has a calm majesty, which is quite in the now appeal's as the giver of fetes as well 
fitness of things, and surpasses your ex- as of military decorations. The musty 
pectatious. All is grand, sumptuous, balls of Buckingham Palace are aired 
:ind striking. The trees in the Long and thrown open ; levees and drawing- 
walk, four or five centuries old, and rooms are announced; (ho court, of 
dying of old age, as they border an which M. Daryl denies the existence, 
avenue two leagues in length; the gold conies out of its enchanted nap, and 
plate, worth folly million francs; the proceeds to dazzle the eves of the 
pictures, which any museum in the groundlings; the heir-apparent is sent 
world would he proud to possess; the to the disaffected sister island, there to 
park, in which the deer are fed; the dispense hospitality and money, and to 
guards in their grand uniforms, who hear with good grace (he lack of recip- 
keep watch at the posterns; and, rocal courtesy. 

above all, the machicolations, and Besides her residence of Windsor the 
the ramparts, two hundred feet above Queen has three royal metropolitan 
us, profile against the sky dominating palaces: Buckingham Palace, properly 
the horizon of a dozen counties. If we the residence of the sovereign and (he 
met a live unicorn at the end of an court . ; St. James's, used exclusively 
alley we would hardly feel surprised, for State receptions and levees; and 
At Windsor the atmosphere almost Kensington Palace, where Queen Vic- 
seenis Shakespearian, as at Versailles toria was born, and where she held her 
one seems to be walking in a tragedy of first Council. Buckingham Palace is far 
.lean Racine." more impressive in exterior than in in- 
Our sprightly French friend alludes terior. It is pretty enough in the midst 
with certain fantastic cynicism to what of iis symmetrical shrubbery and in the 
he is pleased to term the Sleeping neighborhood of the green slopes of St. 
Beauty; 1ml the monarchy in troublous James's park in summer, when the sea- 
times awakens from its feudal dream, son is at its height, and when the long 
and shows that it knows how to take procession of high-swung barouches 
part in the vicissitudes and troubles bears to it the hundreds of ladies who 
which come to the nation. As these are presented at court. These poor 
pages arc written the English world is ladies undergo a ferocious inspection 
disturbed by a deadly struggle with from the populace, which Mocks up to the 
Arab fanaticism, by the resistance of a park to see the swells as they wait in 
so-called Prophet, resistance heightened line their turn to descend within the 
and strengthened by the conviction of palace grounds; and the assembled 
the Arabs that their cause is just; and people pass many a rough comment upon 
no sooner has the strain been fell in the bare-shouldered dowagers and the 
England than the head of the aristocracy shrinking maidens who brave the de- 
rises to the level of an astonishing ments and the eyes of the vulgar on their 
activity. The Queen, who lias such way to pass before the platform on 
marked dislike for public ceremonials, which the Queen stands to receive her 
and who has so studiously refrained subjects. On Drawing-room days the 
from participating in them since the loss Queen wears a mourning costume with 
of the Prince Consort, — whose life- diamonds, and the Order of the Garter, 
long mourner she is determined to be, — and about her are grouped the princesses 



EUROrE l.\ STORM AND CALM. 



557 



and many of the dignitaries of the royal 
household. The ladies pass slowly be- 
fore the platform, their long trains, 
the feathers in their hair, — for Mowers 
are forbidden at court, — giving them a, 
mosl singular appearance. Then' is no 
buffet, and the fatigue of the long wait- 
ing ami the erush in the Drawing-room 
are sometimes so prostrating that a lady 
who has been presented at court does not 
again appear in society during the season. 
The etiquette is of the greatest rigidity. 
The moral character of every person 
who is presented for presentation is 
inspected microscopically, and no lady 
who has been caught in the meshes of a 
divorce suit, no matter how faultless she 
herself may be, can hope for the momen- 
tary glimpse of the majesty of the realm. 
Buckingham Palace doubtless stands on 
the old Marlborough garden, which was 
planted by James I. in the seventeenth 
century, and which, after his time, was a 
popular resort, where people of the best 
quality, according to old Evelyn, used 
to go to be "exceedingly cheated at." 
There Dryden was wont to go with his 
mistress, Mrs. Anne Reeve, to drink 
sweetened wine and eat cheese-cakes. 
Later on there was a Buckingham House, 
which the Duke of Buckingham built 
in 1708; and Defoe speaks of this as 
one of the great beauties of Loudon. 
George III. lived at Buckingham House, 



and there many of his children were 
born. There Dr. Johnson used to go to 
consult books in the tine library, and 
there he had a famous conversation one 
day with George III. 

When the Palace was reconstructed, 
in the second quarter of the present 
century, the celebrated Marble Arch, 
which has long stood on the north-east 
corner of Hyde Park, was one of the 
ornaments of the Palace. It was re- 
moved in 1851. The marble hall and 
sculpture gallery; the grand drawing- 
room, where, on the occasion of state 
balls, the famous tent of Tippoo Sahib is 
erected; the Throne room, beautifully 
hung with crimson satin, with the royal 
throne or chair of state, in which Her 
Majesty is seated when she receives ad- 
dresses ; the picture-gallery of moderate 
merit, and several other gaudy drawing- 
rooms, — are the principal features of the 
Palace. During the present reign a few 
Costume Balls, as they are called, have 
been held in these halls ; but since the 
death of the Prince Consort the only 
festivals have been the drawing-rooms 
for presentation, and at all of these at 
which gentlemen are presented the Prince 
of Wales represents the Queen. The 
royal stables are close by; and the 
Palace can hardly be a healthy resi- 
dence, since under it runs one of the 
greatest of the Loudon sewers. 



558 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO. 

St. James's Palace. - Tlic Story of Kensington. — Its ( lardens. — The < lharges which Royalty Entails. — 
The Prince of Wales. -An fmlustrious flcir Apparent. -Marlborough [louse. — The Title >>!' 
Prince of Wales. — Habitual Views of Allowance* t" Roval Personages. — Samlringham. 



^i'r. James's Palace, on the north side Y'eoinen of (lie Queen's Guard on Levee 

r of tlie Park, is an ugly old pile of ami Drawing-Rooms days, in honor of 

blackened brick, one" a hospital for lep- distinguished visitors. 

rous females. But it is historically mosl Not far away is Clarence House, where 

interesting, and when il stood in the the Duke of Clarence, who afterwards 

midst of green fields, and before il was became lvine William IV., for sometime 

dwarfed by the immediate vicinity of resided. This mansion is now the Lon- 

the lofty Marlborough House, ii was. don residence of one of the Princes 

perhaps, impressive. Henry VIII. first Royal. 

made a royal palace of St. James's: Kensington Palace, which is in the 

Edward and Elizabeth occasionally re- parish of St. Mark's in Westminster, is a 

sided there: Mary made it the place of handsome edifice of brick with st • 

her retirement during the absence of her foundations, and stands upon the site 
royal spouse, Philip of Spain; and of the mansion which was destroyed by 
there she died. From the Chapel Royal, lire in li'.'.U. In the new palace Queen 
which is one of the fashionable places of Mary and King William, Queen Anne 
worship in London, Charles 1. set forth and the Prince Consort, and George IL 
from the Park guarded with a regiment died. George III. rarely visited Ken- 
of foot and partisans to Whitehall, on the sington ; but the' Duke of Kent was very 
morning that he lost his head. There fond of residing in the lower south- 
Monk planned the Restoration: there eastern apartments, underneath the S0- 
the Dukes of York and Gloster were im- called King's ( S-allery : and there Queen 
prisoned in the civil wars: and at the Victoria was christened on the 24th 
close of the seventeenth century, the June, 1819. The story of her reception 
Court at St. James's was very 1 nil- of the intelligence of the death of 
bant. This phrase, the ■■Court of St. William [V. has been often told, b'tt 
James's," so constantly used in diplo- may be once more recited here. The 
matie jargon, came into use shortly after noted painter. Sir David Wilkie, has 
the burning of Whitehall, in 1G97, when left a representation of the scene, but 
the St. James's Palace was lirsl used with a painter's license he departed 
for important state ceremonials. George somewhat from the truth In the diaries 
IN', was born in this palace, and, in IS] t, of a lady of quality, under the date of 
the Emperor of Russia and the King of June. 1837, is the following entry : "On 
Prussia with oltl Dluchcr wore installed the 20th at two a. m. the scene closed 
therein during their visit to London. ( this is an allusion to (he death of King 
The old ceremonials of the honors of the William), and in a very short time the 
Guard Chamber are still enacted by the Archbishop of Canterbury and Lord 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



559 



Conyngham, the chamberlain set out to 
announce the event to their new .sover- 
eign. They reached Kensington Palace 
at about five. They knocked, they rang, 
they thumped for a considerable time, 
before they could arouse the porter at 
the gates. They were again kept wait- 
ing in the court-yard, then tinned into 
one of the lower rooms, where they 
seemed forgotten by everybody. They 
rang the bell, desired that the attendant 
of the Princess Victoria might be sent 
to inform her Royal Highness that they 
requested an audience on business of 
importance. After another delay, and 
another ringing to inquire the cause, the 

attendant was summ d, and stated 

that the Princess was in such a sweet 
sleep that she could not venture to dis- 
turb her. Then they said, 'We are 
conic to the Queen, on business of state. 
and even her sleep must give way to 
that.' It did ; anil, to prove that she did 
not keep them waiting, in a few minutes 
she came into the room in a loose white 
night-gown and shawl, her night-cap 
thrown off. and her hair falling upon her 
shoulders, her feet in slippers, tears in 
her* eyes, but perfectly collected and 
dignified. The first act of the Queen 
was of course to summon the Council, 
and most of (he summonses were not 
received until after the early hour fixed 
for its meeting. The Queen was, upon 
the opening of the doors, found sitting at 
the head of the table. She received 
first the homage of the Duke of Cumber- 
land, who I suppose was not King of 
Hanover when he knelt to her. The 
Duke of Sussex rose to perform lie 
same ceremony, but the Queen stood up 
and prevented him from kneeling, kiss- 
ing him on the forehead. The crowd 
was so great, the arrangements were so 
ill-made, thai my brothers tell me the 
scene of swearing allegiance to their 



young sovereign was more like that of 
the bidding at an auction than anything 

else." 

Not far away are the delightful Ken- 
sington Gardens, several hundred acres 
in area, and there, when King William 
lived in the Palace, the great gardens, 
which Queen Caroline had caused to be 
laid out, were opened to the public on 
Saturdays; and all visitors were required 
to appear in full dress. It was Queen 
Caroline who formed the serpentine, 
which divided the Palace grounds from 
the open Hyde Park; and near the 
bridge over this serpentine then' are 
many line walks beneath line old Spanish 
chestnut-trees. 

The nation is proud and pleased to 
pay all the charges which royalty entails 
upon it; and these charges are various 
and numerous enough to bear recapitula- 
tion here. Theoretically the Queen's in- 
come is free from all taxes and charges; 
but we learn that Sir Robert Peel, when 
he was prime minister, in 1842, an- 
nounced that the Queen had declared her 
determination to submit to the income 
tax. This statement was received with 
enthusiasm; but the Queen is supposed 
from that day to this never to have paid 
any income tax. Among the so-called 
Civil List charges on the Consolidated 
Fund are £60,000 for Her Majesty's 
privy purse ; £131 ,260 for Her Majesty's 
household, including annual salaries and 
retired allowances; £172.500, expenses 
of Her Majesty's household ; £13,200, 
royal bounty, alms, and special services ; 
pensions granted by Her .Majesty. £23,- 
71 1 ; unappropriated items, £8,040 ; reve- 
nues of the Duchy of Lancaster drawn 
by Her Majesty, about £44,000 annually ; 
expenditure on the royal palaces, several 
thousand pounds : on the great park, 
£25,000 annually, — in short, on all the 
immediate personal expenses and those 



5b"0 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

connected with the royal residences, thousand acres, and her rental from 

nearly £500,000. The royal yachts and Aberdeen, Hants, and Surrey is about 

the naval charges amount to £34,656; £5,500. The grand estate of Windsor 

and this is the annual average cost of is more than ten thousand acres, and is 

the four royal yachts for ten years, valued at £22,000 odd per annum. The 

Escorts and salutes, and the pay of Queen bought Claremont for £74,000, in 

naval and marine aides-de-camp cost 1882. This noble property cost Lord 

about £5^000 more; the military aide- ('live nearly £150,000, and covers four 

de-camp, the household troops, pensions hundred and sixty-four acres. Besides 

in connection with the Orders of the her English possessions the Queen has 

Bath and of St. Patrick, allowances to property at Coburg and at Baden, in 

marshal of ceremonies and trumpeters, Germany. 

and other small items which come under Other payments by the nation to the 
the head of royal escort, cost £70,000 royal family may he briefly reviewed 
annually. Many items formerly defrayed as follows : U.K. II. the Princess Royal, 
by the revenues of the crown, such as present Crown Princess of Prussia, the 
grants to the Church of Scotland, royal able, amiable, and interesting wife of 
functionaries in Scotland, hereditary Prince Frederick William, heir to the 
usher, the hereditary keeeper, master of German throne, received yearly, after 
the audience court, the officers of the 1858, £8,000 ; and there is an odd little 
Order of the Thistle, the six trumpeters, item of £40 for a special steamer to con- 
Her Majesty's historiographer, clock- vey the Crown Prince to and fro when- 
maker, the warden at regalia, Her Majes- ever he visits England attached to the 
ty's charities and bounties, the Ulster estimates on behalf of this princess 
king-at-arms, the pensions paid to Eng- royal. When she was married, the nation 
lish clergy, the pensions paid to French gave her a money grant of £40,000. 
refugee clergy, bounties to the clergy and The Prince of Wales has received 
school-masters of the Isle of Man, and annually since 1863 £40,000, as a 
many other items, are now assumed by charge on the Consolidated Fund, tbe- 
the nation, anil count in the sovereign's sides which lie enjoys the revenues of 
Civil List, the total payments on account the Duchy of Cornwall, which have 
of which are about £619,000 annually, averaged £05.000 annually for the last 
1 (urinu: the life of the Prince Consort ten years. This Duchy of Cornwall is 
£30,000 per annum was payable to him, a little treasury in itself. The lands of 
and the total sum drawn under the act the duchy are about seventy-four thou- 
giving him a yearly sum had been sand acres in area, and the coal, tin, 
£630,000. In 1852 a generous gentle- and lead mines yield enormously. The 
man bequeathed £250,000 sterling to invested ami cash balances of the duchy 
Her Majesty for her personal use. amount to €1. '10, 000. For annual re- 
It is but propel- that the Queen pairs of Marlborough House the Prince 
should he a great land-owner, as she has about £2,000. The Princess of 
is the head of a landed aristocracy, Wales has a separate annual charge on 
and her private estates, while they do the Consolidated Fund of £10.000 ; and 
not rank in size with the great ducal whenever the Prince makes a journey in 
possessions, are ven considerable. In the interest of the nation, as when he 
Aberdeen she has more than twentv-live went to St. Petersburg to invest the 



EUROPN AA r STORM AND CALM. 



. r )l»l 



CzarwiththeOrderof the Garter, his trav- exchange of despatches. The Prince is 
elling expenses are from £2,000to£3,000. but a .small land-owner, for ho has but 
Shortly before he reached his 

majority the Prince of Wales 
received the accumulated rev- 
enues of the Duchy of Corn- 
wall, amounting to more than 
£000,000. Of this sum one- 
third was invested in the pur- 
chase of Sandringham, and a 
part of the remainder was 
spent in building the pretty 
mansion there, and in fitting 
out the Prince and his house- 
hold for his active campaign 
of social duty. The Prince of 
Wales is the first gentleman, 
as the Premier or Prime Min- 
ister is the first man, in Eng- 
land. The position of heir- 
apparent to the throne is by 
no means a bed of roses. 
It is as trying and requires 
as energetic conduct as that 

of a great politician ; and in 

troublous times the conduct 

of the present Prince, as well 

as his energy and courage, 

have done much to prevent 

crises. When the Queen is 

puzzled and annoyed at Mr. 

Gladstone's course it is the 

Prince of Wales who pops 

into the Premier's olliee and 

makes him a friendly call. 

When there is a chance for a 

favorable alliance on the con- 
tinent, it is the. Prince of 

Wales who appears in Paris 

or Rome, Berlin or Vienna, 

leaving always an excellent 

impression behind him, and 

often accomplishing in a few moments' a rental of £10,000 from fourteen thou- 

conversation what the diplomats have sand eight hundred acres in Norfolk and 

been bringing up to the verge of accom- Aberdeenshire. Should the Princess of 

plishment during long months of weary Wales survive her husband she would 




PRINCE OP WALES. 
From Photograph by \. liassano, Old Bond street. London. 



5()2 EUROPE IN STORM AM) CALM. 

receive from the nation £30,000 per eign, that he has a right to assume it 
annum, or £10,000 less than she now as soon as he is horn. But the fact is 
receives in addition to lier own portion, that every heir-apparent to the English 
When the Prince went to India, in 1875, throne is Prince of Wales only hy an 
out of the £142,000 expended during the act of special creation in his own par- 
journey, £60,000 was allowed as pocket- tieular case. Sometimes this act is de- 
money and to be given as gratuities. It laved for many years, and sometimes 
is not astonishing that all who partici- it is not enforced at all. Edward II. 
pated in that memorable excursion never was the first Prince of Wales, the story, 
cease to sine- the praises of the Prince which lias been told recently in the 
of Wales. British press on (he occasion of the 
The entrance to Marlborough House, majority of the eldest son of the present 

which is the town residence of the Prince Prince, being that, "to reconcile the 

and Princess of Wales, looks like the Welsh people to their subjugation, and 

entrance of a great club, and the to the recognition of the sovereignty 

stranger might he pardoned for niistak- instead of the mere suzerainty of the 

ing it for a club-house, as it stands in English, King Edward 1. promised them 

Hie region of the costly palaces which a prince horn in their own country, and 

the great number of club associations unable to speak a word of English." 
have adopted as peculiar to their own. The legend tells us that the shrewd 

This house, which has been much iin- Edward kept his promise by presenting 

proved in later years, was built for the to the Welsh people his son Edward, who 

great Duke of Marlborough, in 1710, had just been born at Carnarvon, and 

was at one time the residence of Queen who certainly could not speak English, 

Adelaide, widow of William IV.. and and who would have found it just as 

later on. was a kind of museum, until the difficult to speak Welsh. Edward II. 

department of science and art was re- was not created Prince of Wales until he 

moved to South Kensington, when Marl- was seventeen; Edward III. was never 

borough House was prepared for a princely made Prince of Wales, but was called 

residence. There all the Prince's chil- the Earl of Chester; the Black Prince 

dred, except the eldest, were born, and Edward was called Prince of Wales when 

there the heir-apparent lives a cosy and he was thirteen, and from his time date 

honest English life, receiving cordially the three ostrich feathers and the motto 

great numbers of friends without much " Ich Dien" (I serve), the princely de- 

of that strictness and etiquette which vice, which the present heir-apparent 

prevails in his goodly mother's palace of thoroughly fulfils. Some of the princes 

Windsor. The sentries, majestic in of Wales, notably lie who became 

their bearskin caps, who walk up and George IV., certainly served no one but 

down before Marlborough House and the themselves. The famous Madcap Prince, 

entrance to St. James's Park, are the of whom Shakespeare has given us such 

only indications that royalty "races the pleasant pictures, was a Prince of 

neighborhood. Wales; and after him there is a lone 

It is generally supposed in America line of primes good, and princes bad. 

and on the continent that the title of George I.'s son did not become Prince 

Prince of Wales is hereditary for the of Wales until he was thirty-two. 

eldest son of the reigning English sover- Among the bad princes may be set 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



563 



down Frederick, Prince of Wales, This Fred, however, left a son to lie 

whose reputation is summed up in the Prince of Wales, and afterwards to be 

hitinjj; epitaph written shortly after his George IIL, of whom America heard 

death : — much. 




PRINCESS OF WALES AND FAMILY. 
I''i«tm Photograph by W. & I>. Downing, Eluiry street, London. 



" Here lies Fred, who was alive and now is dead. 
Hail it been his father, I had much rather, 
Had it been his brother, sooner than any other, 
Hail it been hia sister, there is no one who 

would have missed her, 
Had it been his whole generation, best of all 

for the nation ; 
But since it's only Fred, there is no more to be 

said." 



In an interesting article published in 
the " Daily News " last year, occurs the 
following statement concerning the finan- 
cial arrangements for the Prince of 
Wales: "Until the accession of the 
Queen, the annuity of the Prince of 
Wales had depended solely on the then 



5<>4 



EUROrE l.X STORM AND CALM. 



reigning sovereign, and was granted by 
him out of the t'i\il List. George I. 
gave out of a Civil List of £700,000 a 
year an annuity of £100,000 to the 
Prince of Wales, the revenue of the 
Duchy of Cornwall being about £10.000 
a year. After he became king la 1 did 




DEPARTURE OF T1IF. PRINCE op WALES FOR 1-N'IHA. 



not emulate his father's generosity. 
George II. was the Harpagon of kings, 
lb- must have been the original of the 
king in the nursery rhyme, who was al- 
ways in his counting-house, counting of 
his money, for that was one of his 
favorite occupations 1 . Horace Walpole 
mentions that one of his bedchamber 
women, with whom he was in love. 
seeing him count his money very often, 



said to him: ••Sir, I can bear it no 
longer. If you count your money once 
more I will leave the room." The 
contrast, between the miserly father and 
the spendthrift son is quite in the vein 
of the old comedy. It belongs to the 
oldest comedy, that of human nature. 
•• ( leorge II., out of 
his Civil List of £800,- 
000, allowed to Fred- 
click, Prince of Wales, 
a • poor, dissolute, flabby 
fellow - creature,' says 
Carlyle, an annuity of 
£GO,000, which, with 
his hereditary revenue 
I as Duke of Cornwall, 
gavehirn£60,000ayear. 
The alleged inadequacy 
of this allowance was, 
at the instigation of 
Bolingbroke, brough t 
before the House of 
Commons by Pulteney, 
whom tlie King struck 
oil' the list of the Privy 
Council for his pains. 
Through the intrigues 
of the Court at Leicester 
1 louse, a motion for its 
increase was nearly being 
carried. The annuity 
which ( ieorge III. him- 
self granted to his Prince 
of Wales, afterwards 
( ieorge IV., was £50,- 
000, the annual revenue of the Duchy of 
Cornwall amounting to about £12,000. 
(leorge. Prince of Wales, bore consid- 
erable resemblance, in character, to his 
grandfather, Frederick, Prince of Wales. 
He imitated him in political intrigue, 
and endeavored, through his friends in 
the House of Commons, to obtain an 
increase in the annual allowance made to 
him. After some unsuccessful attempts, 



EUROPE IN STORM AM) CALM. 



565 



the King, not desiring to run the risk 
which his grandfather had incurred on 
Mr. Pulteney's nearly successful motion. 
made a proposal by Mr. Alderman Not- 
tage, in the House of Commons, in 17*7. 
for granting an additional £10,000 a 
year out of the Civil List. In 1795 an 
additional annuity of £65,000 was set- 
tled upon the Prince, and in 1803 a fur- 
ther addition of £10,000 a year was 
made. This increase was, however, 
practically mortgaged for the payment 
of the Prince's debts, put down at 
£050,000, and did not swell the income 
available for his personal expenses." 

It is said, that, as the numerous grand- 
children of the Queen marry, the sums 
which have been voted by Parliament to 
the members of the royal family will be 
enormously increased. The Princess 
Beatrice, the last of the children, will, 
doubtless, have as generous a propor- 
tional allowance as has been made in the 
case of her brothers and sisters. " But," 
says a recent writer, '• when the time 
comes for dealing with the third genera- 
tion of the royal house, it may be neces- 
sary to reconsider what is expedient and 
practical." The grandchildren of George 
III., to whom annuities have been voted, 
are only three, — the Duke of Cambridge 
and his two sisters. The English-born 
grandchildren of her present Majesty 
are no fewer than eighteen, — very likely 
to be more. It is well, perhaps, that 
the prospects to be made in respect to 
provision for them should be established 
in a new House of Commons, more 
fairly representing the general owners of 



the country than any of its predecessors. 
Ml'. Bright once described the public 
service of the country as a gigantic sys- 
tem of out-door relief for the aristocracy. 
The statement is much less true now 
than when Mr. Bright made it. The 
younger members of the aristocracy, 
the Lord Walters and Lionels, and the 
Hon. Alans and Johns, are Hocking into 
commerce, professions, and adventures, 
are tilling a state and clearing the back- 
woods. The time may come when the 
remoter scions of the Royal House may 
find the need and the happiness of taking 
a similar course. 

The heir-apparent of the heir-appar- 
ent, Prince Albert Victor Charles Arthur 
Edward, known to his family and at his 
university as Prince Edward, has re- 
cently attained his majority, after having 
been to sea, as becomes an English 
Prince, and seen a good bit of the world. 
At Trinity College. Cambridge, which 
Macaulay called the noblest place of 
education in the world, he has been read- 
ing many hours daily, and his first public 
acts, such as the exchange of notes with 
the venerable Gladstone, and numerous 
representatives and politicians, indicate 
much strength of character. Sandring- 
ham. where the festivities on his coming 
of age took place, lies in a pretty coun- 
try near the sea, among hills and rich 
marsh meadows, dotted with cattle and 
wild and picturesque stretches of heath, 
broken by plantations. The house is 
surrounded by a handsome park dotted 
with lakes. 



5(i(i 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CAL.M. 



CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE. 



Fortunes and Incomes of Members of the English 1 
The tnvisihle Court. —Its Functionaries.—! 3 



loyal Family. — Ancienl and Hereditary Pensions. — 
residency. — The Aristocratic Element in the House 



r~|"MlK charges upou the " Consolidated 
-*- Finid," caused by the maintenance 
of the I v < > %" : 1 1 Family, do not cease with 
the handsome payments to the Queen 
and to her eldest son. His Royal Highness 
Alfred. Duke nf Edinburgh, lias received 
annually, since attaining his majority, in 
1865, £15,000, and after his marriage in 
1874, £10,000. His pay and allowance 
as Rear Admiral and superintendent of 
naval reserves, amount to nearly £1,500 
per annum. He has the free use of 
Clarence House, on which Parliament 
spent a vast sum in altering it and 
lilting ii for his use. He is shortly to 
inherit the great estates and wealth of 
the reigning Duke of Saxe Coburg and 
an income of fully £30,000 yearly. His 
wife brought him a pretty fortune of 
£90,000, besides a marriage portion of 
£300,000 and a life annuity of more 

than £1 1,000. In case she outlives the 
Duke, she is to have £6,000 in Consols. 
The immense accumulation thus enu- 
merated was the basis of the strenuous 
opposition of Sir Charles Dilke and 
others, in 1874, to a new errant to the 
Prince, who had married the richest 

heiress in Europe. But only eighteen 
people ventured to vote against the 
Crown. Her Royal Highness Eleanor, 
Princess Christian, is allowed £6,000 
annually, and on the occasion of her 
marriage was given £30,000. She has 
Cumberland Lodge, Windsor Park, as a 
royal residence. The Prince Christian, 
who is the Park Ranger, gets from the 



Queen £500 a year, besides many per- 
quisites. The gracious and charming 
Marchioness of Lome, her Royal High- 
ness Princess Louise, also receives 
£6,000 from the nation, and had out of 
the annual appropriations £30,000 when 
she was married. She lives in Ken- 
sington Palace, lent free. The late 
Princess Alice of llesse also had an 
annual grant of £6,000 in Consols, a 
dowry of £30,000, and during her life- 
time received from the nation £126,000. 
His Royal Highness Arthur, Duke of 
Connaught, up to his majority in 1871, 
had received £6,000 per annum, and 
since his majority has had £10.000 an- 
nually. He draws £4,000 every year as 
military pay, and his wife brought him a 
dowry of £15,000. Mr. Gladstone, who 
supported the annuity bill in Parliament 
for this Prince, was excluded from the 
list of invitations when the Duke was 
married. The Duke of Connaught has 
a suit: of rooms in Buckingham Palace, 
and a tine mansion at Bagshot Park, 
built for him and administered by the 
Woods and Forests Department. From 
1874 to 1882, his late Royal Highness, 
the Prince Leopold, Duke of Albany, 

received annually £15,000; £10,000 a 
year when he was married, in 1882, and 
at the time of his marriage was given 
£140,000 by the English people. Her 
Royal Highness, the Duchess of Cam- 
bridge, has received £6,000 annually 
since her widowhood in 1850. Her 
Roval Highness Augusta, Princess and 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM 



567 



Duchess of Meeklinburg-Strelitz,has had 
£3,000 yearly since 1843, when she was 
married ; and whenever she journeys 
abroad, it is in a speeial steamer, for 
which £80 is allotted. His Royal High- 
ness George, Duke of Cambridge, has 
t'l 2,000, besides game-rights, residences, 
and pasturages, amounting to £3,000 
more per year. As Field Marshal com- 
manding-in-chief, he has £4,500 per 
year, and as Colonel of the Grenadier 
Guards, a little more than £2,000 per 
year. Thus the head of the army receives 
about£°>3,000 every year, as commander- 
in-chief, and nearly £70,000 as a gift 
from the nation. Audaeioiis attempts 
have been made ill Parliament to reduce 
these payments. Joseph Hume, John 
Bright, and others have attempted to 
lower them to £8,000 or £12,000, but in 
vain. In London, the Duke of Cam- 
bridge resides inGloster House. inPicca- 
dilly, which has been given him by the 
Queen as his town residence. 

Mary. Princess of Teck, has £5,000 
annually. Ilis Serene Highness the 
Prince Edward of Saxe Weimar has 
about £3,500, and various nephews have 
half-pay or retired pay-, as vice-admirals 
or as governors of castles or park-keepers. 
In addition to these there is a long list 
of pensions to servants of deceased 
sovereigns ; and the grand total of money 
paid out by Great Britain, in twelve 
months, in connection with the royal 
family, is about £870,000, (o which 
should be added the cost of keeping up 
the royal public parks and pleasure-gar- 
dens, — Battersea, Bethnal Green, Bushy 
Park, Chelsea Military Asylum, Edin- 
burgh Royal Botanic Gardens, Green- 
wich, Hampton Court, Kew, Holyrood, 
Kensington, Regent's Park, and Prim- 
rose Hill, Richmond Park, St. James's 
Park, Victoria Park, etc., ad infinitum. 
But the nation gives this money very 



willingly, because it really considers it as 
spent upon its own pleasures, and it pre- 
fixes each park with the word "royal," 
to confer upon it an additional dignity. 
The nation sums up and embodies its 
own majesty in the royal family, and it 
considers that it gives proof of its own 
magnificence in treating these hereditary 
representatives magnificently. 

At all times, until recent years, the 
sovereigns of England have felt free to 
bestow pensions with reckless generosity, 
and Great Britain has an enormous list 
of ancient and hereditary pensioners. 
The present Queen has in forty-six years 
expended nearly £750,000 in Civil List 
pensions. The unredeemed ancient pen- 
sions, the grants made by Parliament in 
perpetuity, and pensions granted since 
the passage of the Restraint Acts, and 
made payable for more than one life, 
give an enormous total. But England is 
not the only country which is encumbered 
with pensioners. It is to lie noted, how- 
ever, that, year by year, a large part of 
the increase iu expenditure on pensions 
and gratuities comes from the army esti- 
mates, and is due to the constant small 
and large wars in which England is 
engaged. The Financial Reform Al- 
manac calls attention to the fact that, in 
that black year of trade, 1884, John 
Bull has had to pay a corps of 110,000 
pensioners, military, naval, and civil, for 
doing nothing, and that their drawing, 
amounting to £7,500,000 sterling, swal- 
lowed up the whole of the income tax 
laid on the national profits during twelve 
months. 

A brief review of Her Majesty's 
household and the expenses attendant 
upon it may not be considered uninter- 
esting by republican readers. In the 
Lord Steward's department, the Lord 
Steward. Rt. Hon. Earl Sydney, receives 
£l',000 a year; the Treasurer of the 



568 



EUROrE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Household and the Controller, £1,000 
each ; Masterof the Household, £1,158 ; 
Secretary to the Board, £500; Keeper 
of the Privy Purse and Private Secretary 
to Her Majesty, Hou. Sir II. F. Pouson- 
bv. whose name is so often seen affixed 
in telegrams sent from Her Majesty, 
£2,000; an Assistant Keeper, £5,000; 
another Assistant, £500; Secretary of 
the Privy Purse, £3,000; and Clerks, 
trivial salaries. In the Lord Chamber- 
lain's department, the Lord Chamber- 
lain, tiie Earl of Kinmare, has £2,000 
per year ; the Vice-Chamberlain, nearly 
£1,000 ; the Controller of Accounts, the 
same ; the Chief Clerk, £700 ; Paymaster 
of the Household, £500; Masterof the 
Ceremonies, £3,000; the Lords-in-Wait- 
ing, each £702 ; the extra Lord-in- Wait- 
ing gets no salary ; Grooms-in-Waitiug, 
eaeh £334, but extra Grooms-in- Waiting 
are without pay ; the Gentlemen Ushers 
of the Privy Chamber, eaeh £200; the 
Gentleman Usher of the Black Rod, 
£2,000; Gentlemen Ushers, daily wait- 
ers, considered a very honorable ap- 
pointment, each £200; Grooms of the 
Privy Chamber, each £120; Gentlemen 
Ushers, quarterly waiters, eaeh £80; 
Sergeants-at-Arms, each £80; the Poet 
Laureate, Lord Tennyson. £100; the 
Examiner of Plays, £500; the Librarian 
at Windsor, £500. In addition to these 

there are attached to this intangible 
court, for which the French writer, M. 
Daryl, seems to have sought in vain, a 
Painter in Ordinary, a modern Painter 
and Sculptor, a Surveyor of Pictures, 
a German Librarian, a Governor Con- 
stable of Windsor Castle. Her Maj- 
esty's Body Guard of Yeomen of the 
Guard, with a captain, at £1,200 a year: 
an honorable guard of Gentlemen-at- 
Aiins. with a captain, at £1,200, with a 
standard-bearer, wiih a clerk of the 
cheque, an adjutant, and a sub-officer. 



There is also a Master of the Horse, 
the well-known Duke of Westminster, 
at £2,500 ; a Masterof the Buck Hounds, 
at £1,500; a Clerk of the Marshal, at 
£1,000; an hereditary Grand Falconer, 
if you please, at £1,200; a Crown 
Equerry and Secretary to the Master of 
the Horse, at £8,000; several Equerries 
in Ordinary, at £600 and £500; extra 
Honorary Equerries, pages of honor. 
In the department of the Mistress of the 
Holies there is first the mistress, the 
Duchess of Roxburghe, who receives 
£500 a year, Ladies of the Bed-chamber, 
extra. Ladies of the Bed-chamber, Bed- 
chamber Women, extra Bed-chamber 
Women, a Lady attendant upon 
Princess Beatrice, the Maids of 
Honor, each of these last receiving 
£300 a year; the (I room of the Holies, 
and a Clerk of the Holies. There are. 
furthermore, the Dean of the Chapels 
Royal, who is no less a personage than 
the Bishop of London; a Sub-Dean, a 
Clerk of the Closet, Deputy Clerks of the 
Closet, a Domestic Chaplain, a Domes- 
tic Chaplain of the I [ousehold, an heredi- 
tary Grand Almoner, a High Almoner, 
a Sub-almoner, a Secretary and a Yeo- 
man. There are also numerous phy- 
sicians in ordinary, extraordinary, 
surgeons in ordinary, surgeons extraor- 
dinary, physicians of the house hold, 
surgeons of the household, surgeon 
apothecaries, surgeon at Osborne, sur- 
geon OCUlistS, Surgeon dentists, dentists 
of the household, ami chemists and 
druggists, all attached to the Royal 
1 louse. 

The arrangement of the Prince of 

Wales's household is, on the whole, ex- 
tremely simple, ami there are no salaries 
attaching to any of the appointments: 
the Keeper of the Privy Seal, the Lords of 
the Bed-chamber, the Controller and 
Treasurer, the Grooms of the Bed-chain- 



EUROl'E IN STORM AND CALM. 



, r )i;:> 



ber, the Equerries, the extra Equerries, 
the Private Secretary, the Librarian and 
German Secretary, the Clerks, the Gover- 
nors for the Prince, the Physicians, Sur- 
geons, etc., and they are few as compared 
with the great array of the Queen's attend- 
ants. The household of the Princess of 
Wales is composed of the Chamberlain, 
the Ladies of the Red-chamber, who are 
always ladies of high distinction ; Bed- 
chamber Women, extra Bed-chamber 
Women, and a Private Secretary. All 
this enormous expenditure and weight of 
salaries, paid for services which are, to 
say the least, in a great majority of cases 
entirely unnecessary and rarely per- 
formed, is placed upon the broad backs 
of the English middle classes, and is 
borne almost with ease. 

The vast superstructure of royalty and 
aristocracy is apparent to the stranger no- 
where so palpably as at a public banquet, 
where, after the toasts are begun, he ob- 
serves that it takes almost as long as is 
allotted to ordinary speeches in dinners in 
many other countries to get down to the 
subject-matter of the evening. There 
are, first, what are called the loyal t< >:ists, 
which are never omitted, and which, at 
dinners of importance, almost invariably 
comprise the army and navy, the church 
and the law, if I he law is present. The 
reason for this is easily found in the 
table of precedency, which is as familiar 
ami as much a matter of course to Eng- 
glisli men and women as it is odd and 
singular to many foreigners. The table 
naturally begins with the sovereign, and 
descends in the following order: the 
Prince of Wales, the Queen's younger 
Sons, the Grandsons of the sovereign, 
the Archbishop of Canterbury, the Lord 
High Chancellor, the Archbishop of York, 
the Archbishop of Armagh, the Arch- 
bishop of Dublin, the Lord President of 
the Privy Council, the Lord of the Privy 



Seal, the Lord Great Chamberlain, the 
Earl Marshal, the Lord Steward of Her 
Majesty's Household, the Lord Chamber- 
lain ; then come the Dukes, according to 
their patents of creation, of England, 
Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, and those 
created since the Union; in the same 
order as dukes, dukes' eldest sons, earls, 
according to their patents, marquises' 
eldest sons, dukes' younger sons, vis- 
counts, according to their patents, earls' 
eldest sons, marquises' younger sons ; the 
bishops of London, Durham, and Win- 
chester; all other English bishops, ac- 
cording to seniority of creation ; bishops 
of t he Irish Church created before 1869 ; 
Secretaries of State, if they be barons; 
barons, according to their patents. We 
have now come down through a. long list 
to a very important parliamentary func- 
tionary, who is heard quite as much of 
in the course of a year as the Queen or 
the Prince of Wales, but who, as will 
readily be seen, is a long way from the 
throne, — this is the Speaker of the 
House of Commons. Below him is the 
Treasurer of Her Majesty's Household, 
the Controller of Her Majesty's House- 
hold, the Master of the Horse, the Vice- 
Chamberlain of Her Majesty's House- 
hold, the Secretaries of State under the 
degree of baron, viscounts' eldest sons, 
earls' younger sons, barons' eldest sons. 
Knights of the Garter, Privy Councillors, 
the Chancellor of the Exchequer, the 
Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, 
the Lord Chief Justice of the Queen's 
Bench, the Master of the Rolls, the 
Lords Justice of Appeal, the Lords of 
Appeal, Judges, according to seniority, 
viscounts' younger sons, barons' younger 
sons, baronets, according to date of 
patents, Knights of the Thistle, Knights 
of St. Patrick, Knights of the Grand 
Cross of the Bath, Knights ( i rand Com- 
manders of the Star of India, Knights of 



, r )7() 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



the Grand (toss of St. Michael and St 
George, Knights Commanders of the 
Bath, Knights Commanders of the Star 
of India, Knights Commanders of St. 
Michael and St. George, Knights Bache- 
lors, Judges of County Courts, Com- 
panions ol' tin' Bath, Companions of the 
Star of India, Companions of St. Michael 
and St. George, Companions of the In- 
dian Empire, eldest sens of the younger 
sons of peers, baronets' eldest suns, 
eldest sons of Knights of the Garter, 
Thistle, St. Michael and St. George, St. 
Patrick, the Bath, the Star of India, 
Knights Bachelors, younger sons of the 
younger suns of peers, baronets' younger 
sons, younger suns of knights in the 
same order as eldest sons ; and, finally, 
gentlemen entitled to bear arms, in 
whom we recognize our old friend Armi- 
ger or Esquire. The ladies take the 
same lank as their husbands or as their 
brothers; but merely official rank on 
the husband's part does not give any 
similar precedence to the wife. When 
it is remembered that in every large 
assembly, like that of a meeting be- 
fore a great banquet, or a reception, 
a crush, a party, this table of prece- 
dence takes form in the mind of the 
persons who manage or give the enter- 
tainments, and is adhered to with all the 
rigidity possible under the circumstances, 
it is easy to see that conventional form 
is a prime clement ill every English 
gathering, or at the public dinners. It 
is sometimes galling to cultivated and 
distinguished representatives of the 
United States to be placed in inferior 
positions at table, far below the Japanese 
Minister, or. possibly some petty East 
Indian potentate, simply because 
America sends abroad only ministers 
with extraordinary powers; and an am- 
bassador must necessarily take prece- 
dence of a minister. 



The aristocracy represented in this 
court practically governs England ; and 
it is striking to observe that in the 
House of Commons the aristocratic and 
landed interest far exceeds any other. 
In the present House, for instance, 
there are one hundred and forty-one 
members who are connected with the 
peerage by birth, and one hundred and 
twenty-eight connected with it by mar- 
riage, and three Irish peers. There 
are one hundred and sixty-eight officers 
of the army, retired officers, prominent 
officers of the navy, the militia, ami 
the yeomanry : there are seventy-nine 
sons and heirs of peers who are great 
land-owners, one hundred and ninety- 
eight land-owners, and but four farm- 
ers, one mason, and one miner. It 
is estimated that the House of Com- 
mons represents a collective ownership 
of seven millions five hundred seventy- 
seven thousand nine hundred and sev- 
enty-lour acres of land, which yield a 
rent-roll of £5,901,218; but the House of 
Lords represents an ownership in acres 
ol' fifteen million two hundred thirteen 
thousand two hundred and eighty-nine, 
giving a rental of £12,751,596; and if 
to this we should add the acres and 
rentals of representative peers, we 
should have, as the total land representa- 
tion of the peerage, — sonic live hundred 
and twenty-four men, — sixteen million 
four hundred eleven thousand nine 
hundred and eighty-six acres, worth 
£13,542,620 per annum. All 1ml thirty- 
three of the peers who sit in the House of 
Louis arc land-owners, and there is paid 
to them, in annuities, pensions, and 
salaries. £598,000 annually, of which the 
peers royal get £100,000 odd, and the 
prelates or spiritual peers, about £165,- 
()()(). Although the House of Lords is 
pretty fairly divided into Conservative 
and Liberal sections, on questions of land 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



571 



the Liberals flock over to the Conserva- 
tive side. The fortunes represented in 
this ancient, and latterly, rather tried, 
body of aristocrats, are enormous, and 
a few facts relating to them, recently 
published In England, arc worth giving 
here. The Duke of Northumberland re- 
ceived £520,000 in 1873 from the rate- 
payers in Loudon for his old castle in 
Trafalgar square. The Duke of Suth- 
erland had £300,000 invested in railways 
in the north of Scotland in 1874. It 
was estimated that the value of the 
estates in the West End of London 
owned by the Duke of Westminster was 
£i'l'0,000 a year, — more than a million 
dollars a year as ground rental. The 
Duke of Hamilton, who has coal-fields 
coveriug nearly nine thousand acres, 
gets royalties of £114,000 annually, aud 
the ultimate value of these coal-fields is 
estimated at more than $60,000,000. 
This is the noble Duke who sold his 

library for £170. in 1884. An idea 

of the fortune of the Marquis of Bute 
may be had from the fact that he spent 
£1,000,000 sterling on Cardiff docks 
to improve them. The Karl of Derby 
owns Bootle and Kivkdale, Liverpool, 
and gets enormous sums from the Mer- 



sey Dock Board. The Karl of Sefton 
got a quarter of a million sterling from 
the corporation of Liverpool for three 
hundred and seventy-five acres of land 
for a park. Karl Dudley exhibited the 
diamonds of his Countess at the Vienna 
Exhibition, and their value was stated 
at £500,000 sterling. The Duke of 
Norfolk sold a market to the Sheffield 
Corporation in 1876 for £276,000. Tin- 
Karl of Sealicld has forests forty-one 
thousand acres in extent. Their wood 
was estimated in 1856 to be worth 
£1,200,000. It is said that, in thirty 
years from this time, one of these forests 
will give £50,0(10 a year from its nine- 
teen thousand acres. The Karl of Stam- 
ford got £175,000 for one estate of three 
hundred acres of wooded land in 1*7"). 
No wonder these great land-owners cling 
to their land. Hundreds of the smaller 
land-owners, finding their tenant farm- 
ers discontented and deserting them, 
say, in melancholy lone, that they are, in 
the expressive southern phrase, " land 
poor." Out of the whole seventy-seven 
million eight hundred thousand acres in 
the United Kingdom, twelve men own 
four million four hundred forty thousand 
acres. 



572 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER SIXTY-F01 R. 



The Parliament Palace History and Tradition. — The New Horn.- of the Plutocrats. — The Victoria 

Tower. -Westminster Hall. — Tin' lions,. ,,|' Louis.— Procedure in the Hereditary ( hainbcr.— 
The Force of rncrtia. Parliamentan i aim. 



r I"MIL huge gothic palace opposite the 
J- Thames is certainly the most im- 
pressive of modern English monuments, 
and is s:\id to be the largest range <>(' 
public buildings erected for several cen- 
turies in Great Britain. Every great 
nation thinks it possesses the first legis- 
lative assembly of the world, and that 
when the members of that assembly 
come together, the listening peoples in 
the four quarters of the globe tremble 
with excitement. But there is some 
foundation for the English boast that 
the Parliament Houses shelter the first 
parliament of the world; for in no two 
other legislative chambers is so wide a 
range of force, and one covering and 
surrounding so vast an extent of sea 
and land ever discussed and directed. 
When we hear on the Continent of 
" parliamentary government," and of 
•• parliamentary procedure," these terms 
mean something so totally different from 
what they represent in England, that a 
comparison of the difference would be 
almost astonishing. A mass of flowery 
tradition of almost as rich a gothic as 
the exterior of the Parliament Houses 
surrounds all the proceedings of the 

English legislative bodies: yet the pal- 
ace in which they meet is as new 

as the plutocracy which has crept 
into legislative representation in Great 
Britain. 

The new Westminster Palace stands 
on the site of the old royal palace of 
the kings of England from Edward 1. 



to Elizabeth. It is first named in a 
charter of Edward the Confessor, made 

a little after L052 ; and within the old 
palace walls the Confessor died. In 
1066, William the Norman held his 
councils there; there the Abbot of 
Peterboro was tried before the Kino in 
1069; there William Rufus built his 
great hall with its majestic and phe- 
nomenal roof, which not even the mali- 
cious liish patriots with their dynamite 
can shake, anil which is quite as likely 
as royalty itself to last for many cen- 
turies to come. In this great hall Wil- 
liam Rufus held his court in 1099; 
there also Henry I. gave many a fes- 
tival. In 1238 the boisterous Thames 
invaded the great hall, and dignitaries 
of the State went to anil fro in boats 
under the roof of William Rufus. But 
repeated conflagrations ate away the 
greater part of the old palace, the great 
hall always being kept in good repair 
for feasts, for coronations, for arraign- 
ment of personages charged with 
treason, and for the keeping of the 
courts of justice. There Henry VIII. 
detied the legate of the Pope; and 
sometimes parliaments were held therein. 
In 1834 a great lire swept away St. 
Stephen's Chapel, the House of Lords, 
and many of the surrounding parlia- 
mentary buildings : and Tinner painted 
a picture of the lire. The old House of 
Lords. — the walls of which were very 
thick and strong, and underneath which 
was the cellar where (iuy Fa wives hatched 



EUROPE TN STORM AND CALM. 



57.' 



his Gunpowder Plot, was taken down the Royal State Apartments, the House 
about 1823. Many of the other line of Lords and the House of Commons, 
rooms have disappeared, among them and the great Central Hall. Enlight- 
the Prince's chamber, which was hung ened by the sad experience of the pre- 
with tapestry representing scenes in the vious fires, Mr. Barry endeavored to 
babyhood of Queen Elizabeth. At the make his building fire-proof. All the 
time of the lire of 1834 
the House of Lords < ><•- 
cupied the old Court of 
Requests, which was 
hung with tapestry rep- 
resenting the defeat oi 
the .Spanish Armada. 

This new Parliamen- 
tary palace was begun 
on the 27th of April, 
is 10. from the designs 
of the architect Charles 
Barry, who was selected 
outof ninety-seven com- 
petitors. Mr. Barry's 
plan has often been se- 
verely criticised ; but he 
built with a view to the 
future, and although to- 
day his palace stands op- 
posite to unsightly rows 
of factory chimneys, and 
has but a little way from 
it some of the vilest 
slums of Europe, when 
the march of improve- 
ment goes up the 
Thames, the palace, u itli 
its noble twin, West- 
minster Abbey, stands in 
no danger of being- 
dwarfed by any structure 

which may be placed opposite or near it. bearers of the floor are cast iron, with 
The enormous pile covers about eight brick arches from girder to girder. The 
acres, and has four principal fronts, the roofs are of wrought-iron cast around 
terrace on the Thames being nearly one galvanized plates. The stone of the 
thousand feet long. There are eleven wall is unfortunately beginning to decay, 
quadrangles or courts, and within the and commissions have repeatedly been 
walls are five hundred apartments and appointed for discovering remedies for 
eighteen official residences, exclusive of hardening the walls. 




INTERIOR OF TIIE IIOFSF. OF COMMONS. 



. r >71 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

The main features of the palace, which by Westminster Hall. In the first days 
is of the Tudor style, with here and of :i parliamentary session this hall is 
there imitations of the picturesque town- frequently crowded with people from all 
halls of the Flemish cities, are the Clock classes of the London population, who 
Tower, at the northern end. which is like wait patiently hours to see the different 
that of the Town-House at Brussels, and celebrities pass in. and to cheer and to 
the great Central Hall, with a stone hoot them, as their inclination mav 
lantern and spire. The Clock Tower is prompt. < >n such occasions the hall is 
one ol the features of London ; it is lined on two sides with gigantic police- 
three hundred and sixteen feet from its men, forming a line through which the 
base to the top of the steeple. The deputies of the nation may safely pass 
clock has the largest dials in the world, to their labor; and no matter how inl- 
and the minute-hand is said to require, portant a place in the social scale a spec- 
on account of its great length, velocity, tator may have, if he does not obey the 
weight, friction, and the action of the injunctions of these policemen, he is liable 
wind upon it, twenty times re force to to lie turned out neck and crop. Mid- 
drive it than the hour-hand, which is nine way on the eastern side of Westmin- 
feet long. The mellow tones of the great ster Hall is the members' entrance to the 
bells of this tower striking the quarters, House of Commons. At the south end 
halt's, and full hours, may be heard in a broad flight of steps leads up to St. 
nearly all the districts of London, espe- Stephen's [torch, and here is a noble 
cially at night; and as long as Parlia- window, the stained glass of which 
ment is in session the lime light burns on represents the insignia of the different 
the tower's top. sovereigns. On the left there is an 

The Victoria Tower, three hundred entrance into St. Stephen's Hall, and 

and thirty-six feet high, is covered with the Central Hall, which has an immense 

figures which, seen from the street, look span of stone Gothic roof, is just beyond. 

almost infantine, but which are really ( )f course there is a royal entrance to 

colossal figures, ten feet high. This Parliament, and this is from the Victoria 

tower was originally intended as a re- Tower. A staircase leads to the Nor- 

positoryfor the state papers and records man porch, beautifully ornamented with 

of the nation, and is divided into eleven statues of kings of the Norman line, and 

stories, each of which contains sixteen with frescoes representing scenes in 

fire-proofrooms. The roof of the tower Anglo-Norman history. On the right is 

weighs four hundred tons. At the portal tin' Queen's Robing-room, and beyond is 

below are great statues of the Lion of the royal gallery, where those fortu- 

Kngland, bearing the national banner; nate people who are admitted to seethe 

and here and there, in the carving, are Queen open or prorogue Parliament wait 

the royal arms of England's former until the arrival of the procession, which 

sovereigns. Here also are the statues of comes through St. .laiues's Park and 

the guardian saints. St. George, St. makes its entry through the Victoria or 

Andrew, and St. Patrick; and in a niche royal gallery into the House of Lords, 

in the archway over the royal stairs is The Hereditary chamber, which has 

the statue of the present Queen. recently seen so many fierce attacks upon 

The public entrances to the Houses its very existence, and which bases iis 

are by the St. Stephen's staircase, and claims to respect chiefly upon its period 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM 



575 



the canopied niches with pedestals sup- 
ported by angels bearing shields, illustrated 



of duration, like Thomas Hardy's vil- 
lager, of whom his comrades said " lie 
he mighty ancient ; 
that he his chief 
quality," — sits in a 
chamber which is 
modern when com- 
pared even with the 
House of Represen- 
tatives in Washing- 
ton. It was only 
completed in 1860, 
and Sir Charles Har- 
ry seems rather to 
have overdone the 
stained glass, the 
escutcheons, the uni- 
corns, the lions, the 
gilding, the poly- 
chrome coloring. 
Lord Redesdale is 
reported to have 
said that the House 
of Lords resembled 
the parlor of a casino. 
M. Philippe Daryl, 
in a spiteful moment, 
remarked that, on 
grand days, when 
the peeresses fill the 
gallery, in their blue 
dresses, red flowers 
and fans, and pale- 
green feathers, the 
appearance is that 
of a Bohemian glass 
shop filled with por- 
celain. This spiteful 
saying exaggerates 
the somewhat glar- 
ing incongruities of 

color and of costume perceptible at an as- with the arms of the barons who won 
semblyof rankand fashionon the occasion MagnaChartafromKingJohn,theflatccil- 
of a speech from the throne. The three ing with its royal monograms and its heral- 
great archways with their wall frescoes, die devices, the walls covered with oaken 




RECENT DYNAMITE EXPLOSIONS AT THE MOUSE OF COMMONS 
IN LONDON. 



576 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

panellings and busts of the sovereigns of of the House of Lords :is it appears to 
England, the galleries with red metal the comprehension of a cultured Eng- 
railings, the great throne at the south lishman : " It is not only in the respects 
end covered with its pretty scarlet carpel of sumptuous ornamentation, the pres- 
bordered with white rows of lions, and euce of ladies full in the sight of as- 
fringed with gold colors, the Peers' Lobby sembled legislators, that the interior of 
and the Library, a superb range of the House of Lords presents such a con- 
rooms, and the decorations of the cor- trast to the House of Commons. There 
ridors which lead to the Central Hall is an air of agreeable abandon in the 
and thence to St. Stephen's, and so to mien and behavior of their lordships, 
the Westminster Hall entrance, — are The countenances of the members of the 
all imposing but scarcely harmonious. House of Commons have, for the most 

The throne is of course the chief feat- part, the look of anxiety or preoccupa- 
ure of the House of Lords, and is al- lion. They enter their chamber like 
ways saluted by a peer upon his entrance men oppressed with the eonscious- 
as a kind of concession to loyalty's ness of responsibility, burdened by a. 
omnipresence. There are three divisions despotism of immutable laws and rigid 
of the throned canopy. On the central etiquette. There is nothing of the 
one the Queen lakes her seat; on the sort in the House of Lords, no painful 
right, the Prince of Wales ; and the left evidence of the thraldom of cere- 
has been vacant since the death of the monial rules or customs, or of the ruth- 
Prince Consort. It would require pages less sacrifice of pleasure to duty. The 
to describe the decorations of the chairs whole atmosphere is redolent of well- 
of state, and the standards, the crests, bred nonchalance and aristocratic re- 
the shields, thi' pedestals, the coronal pose. For instance, there is in theory a 
pendants, and (he shafts surmounted by Speaker of the House of Lords, called, 
crowns. The peers have seats on benches though lie always is, the Chancellor, 
covered with reel morocco leather, which just as there is a Speaker of the House 
extend around three sides of the central of Commons; but the functions of the 
table. Behind these benches are galler- two are separated by a gulf which is 
ies for the wives and daughters of peers, conclusive as to the difference of their 
for the press, and for spectators who are relative positions, and also as to the spirit 
invited. There are seats for only two in which the business of the two Houses 
hundred and thirty-five peers, although is conducted. The Speaker of the House 
there arc more than double that number of Commons is .something more than 
in the House of Lords; but the sitting- primus inter pares. For the time being 
space is never crowded. " If is rare," he is regarded as of a nature different 
says Mr. Escott in his " England," "to from and superior to the honorable 
find more than a third of the sittings of gentlemen by whom he is surrounded, 
the House of Lords occupied. There is Though there is nothing which the House 
no need for members, as in the House of of Commons likes better than a personal 
Commons, to come down a couple of encounter, or a vituperative duel between 
hours before the business of the day any two members, there is nothing 
begins and bespeak places for themselves approaching to disrespect of the gentle- 
by affixing a. card." man who is the first commoner in 

Another quotation from Mr. Escott's England, the custodian and embodiment 

able work will give us a capital notion of its privileges, that it will tolerate. 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



The Speaker of the House of Commons 
is, in fact, the commissioner-in-chief of 
the privileges and prerogatives of the 
House of Commons, whom (lie House 
has accorded to make the depositary of 
its ceremonial interests. To 
the Lord Chancellor no such 
trust has been delivered. The 
peers are a self-governed body, 
the preservers of tlieirown or- 
der. and the protectors of their 
own privileges. Though the 
keeper of the Queen's conscience 
may sit enthroned in majesty on 
the wool-sack, he is not fenced 
round by a divinity sufficient to 
deternoble lords from lounging 
indolently at half-length upon 
its well-padded sides. Save for 
the dignity of his garb the Chan- 
cellor might lie nothing more 
than a Chancellor of the Court. 
Unlike the Speaker in the House 
of Commons his lordship does 
not decide who shall have prior- 
ity. When more than one peer 
rises their lordships keep order 
for themselves. The Chancel- 
lor has not even a casting vote 
when the numbers in a division 
are equal, and his only strictly 
presidential duty is to put the 
question, and read the titles of 
measures. On the other hand 
he is the direct representativeofroyaltyon 
all occasions when the sovereign communi- 
cates with Parliament, and he is the repre- 
sentative official mouth-piece of the House 
of Peers when they hold intercourse with 
public bodies or individuals outside." 

When the Lord Chancellor takes his 
seat, winch is shortly after four o'clock, 
he wears a red robe and an ermine 
mantle, a tremendous wig, and three- 
cornered hat. At his feet are seated 
clerks in magisterial robes, and on the 
right of the wool-sack is another clerk, 



whose duty is to keep :i list of those 
present. Private bills are first con- 
sidered, the stranger gaining nothing 
from the mumbling formula that the 
Chancellor reads, except that the "Con- 




.lolIN" BRIGHT. 
From Photograph t'\ Elliott .^ Fry, 1 don 

tents " have it; and then business pro- 
ceeds very much in the same order :is in 
the House of Commons, with the ex- 
ceptions above noted in the paragraph 
from Mr. Escott's volume. The Minis- 
terial Whip, or whipper-in. or. to he more 
explicit, the able gentleman who makes 
it his business to see that members are 
on hand tor party purposes at the 
proper moments, is us prominent a 
feature of the House of Lords :is of the 
Lower House. The spiritual peers, the 
bishops, and the gathering of Privy 



578 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

Councillors and sons of peers in the legislative bodies. They have already 

space in the Strangers' Galleiy are feat- had a foretaste of what they may expect 

ures which will strike an American as in the heated and animated speeches of 

very odd and curious. In the Lower some of their members on the questions 

Mouse forty is a quorum ; in the Upper of the extension of the franchise and 

House, three, [n the Lower House par- the redistribution, [nboth I louses there 

ticular notice is required for the asking is a tendency to attack discussion of 

of questions of ministers, and the rule even the most vital crisis in the slow, 

is very rigid ; but in the Upper House formal, and elaborate manner which 

members of the Opposition embarrass never ceases to surprise the stranger, no 

the government with as many questions matter how many times he may have 

as they like. What is the use of assisted at the beginning of such a dis- 

privileges unless one can employ cussion. England opposes what might 

them? So think the noble lords who paradoxically be called the force of her 

disdain the rigidity of the Commons, inertia against the immediate settlement 

Nowadays the taking of a divisiou in of pressing questions; and .she does it 

the House of Lonls is very similar to with great effect. Go back to 1867, 

that in the Commons. The "Contents," and you will find that Parliament had 

as the •• Ayes" are called, go down into just finished the slow and steady discus- 

theright lobby, and the "Non-Contents," siou and adoption of the Reform Bill. 

— the "Noes," — into the left lobby ; and, <b> forward to 1884, and you will find 

as they return, their votes are counted Parliament slowly and steadily adopting 

and announced to the Lord Chancellor, the extension of the franchise with 

A striking characteristic of the Eug- almost the same forms, the same men, 

lish Parliament, and one which renders with slight exceptions, and the enormous 

it totally different from that of most slowness noticeable half a generation 

legislative bodies, is the calmness and ago. Mr. Bright is in the same hall, on 

the gravity with which issues of the the same, platform, at Birmingham. He 

most tremendous importance are (lis- fights the same battle, but it is on a 

cussed in the Upper House. The self- slope still further advanced. There has 

confidence and poise are founded upon been progress, but it, has been a thin red 

the lone; possession of great fortunes, line steadfastly, unwaveringly advanc- 

each member who rises to discuss the ing, without fuss or < fusion, without 

issue feeling somehow convinced that, cheers or excitement : progress which 
whatever happens to the world at large, the nation is content to have slow, be- 
or to the British Empire, he will enjoy cause it feels it sure. The nation is 
ease and comfort to the end of his days, anxious that iniquities and injustice 
This is not the feeling of a member of abroad should be crushed or thrown 
the French Senate or the French Cham- aside at lightning speed ; but at home it 
her of Deputies, nor of the German is willing to wait, ready to adopt com- 
pariiamenlary bodies, nor of any eonti- promises, make sacrifices, everything in 
nental assemblies for deliberative pur- favor of the good old motto •• Festina 
poses. When the noble lords enter into lente." Nothing surprises Parliament, 
a discussion of the reform of the tenure I! is a cynical, blasi body, willing 
of landed property in Great Britain they enough to engage in a contest, but de- 
will perhaps appreciate the lack of calm- termined not to he shaken out of its 
ness sometimes perceptible in continental primitive and abiding calm. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



579 



CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE. 



The Irish Members. — The House of Commons. — The Speaker. — The Peers and the Creation of New 
Peers — The Passion for the Possession of Land. — An Active Session. — Procedure. — Eringing 
In Bills. 



THE Irish Question does not alarm 
the British Parliament. Go back 
to 1867, and you will find the government 
passing a bill for suspending Habeas 
Corpus in Ireland. You will read long 
debates on perturbed affairs in the sister 
island. Go forward to 1 88 1 , 1832, 1 883 , 
and 1884, the same discussions are re- 
opened, the same rigorous measures of 
coercion are applied, the same dogged 
determination is manifest ; yet progress 
has been made; concessions where not 
unreasonable have been accorded. Go 
back again to 1867, you will liud Parlia- 
ment discussing the question of an ex- 
pedition of Abyssinia. Go forward again 
to the last twelve months, and you will 
find the Committee of Supply discussing 
the credits of an expedition to the Sou- 
dan. The same programme of the asser- 
tion of the national strength, of pushing 
forward the national trade, of increasing 
the circle of the British Empire's influ- 
ence, has been steadily pursued during 
the half generation witli but little inter- 
ruption because of the ups and downs of 
ministries, with, on the whole, but few 
approaches to danger. The total lack 
of the dramatic faculty in the mass of 
English politicians is noticeable to any 
one who has long lived among Continen- 
tal people. M. Daryl puts down in his 
note-book on the occasion of his first 
visit to the lobby of the House of Com- 
mons, that u no one assumes an air of 
importance, no one rushes away with 
frenzied air, as if about to communicate 



news of the utmost consequence : in short, 
there are no poseurs in English politics 

as there are n in English literature or 

in English art." The Rt. Hon. gentleman 
who comes down in evening dress, re- 
freshed by his frugal dinner, to the 
House of Commons, and who with a 
flower in his button-hole sits listening to 
the lengthy platitudes of some country 
members, betrays but small impatience 
when he rises to respond to some silly ac- 
cusation oi- groundless criticism. Prime 
Ministers in England accept with meek- 
ness a vast amount of flummery and the 
infinity of useless questions to which 
they are subjected. But when they at- 
tack the business on hand, whether it be 
the extension of the franchise or the rec- 
tification of a frontier, they stale the 
ease with extreme plainness, rarely with 
any flowers of rhetoric, although Lord 
Beaeonsfield sometimes remembered his 
ancient floridness of metaphor in his later 
speeches. Nothing can lie more strik- 
ing than the plainness with which orators 
like Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Bright ex- 
press their ideas. There is elegance in 
tone and inflection and in look, but none 
of the passionate or flowery utterances 
of a Cambetta or a Castelar. The chil- 
dren of the north, while they appre- 
ciate eloquence, set it coolly aside in 
their own discussions and statements in 
Parliament. A hero is praised, but not 
in exaggerated terms. There is a sense 
of the dignity of the place and the occa- 
sion always noticeable in speeches of 



f>.SO EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

Pari iament except in those thai an ex- ling studies called " The Point of View," 
cited Irish member, a noble marquis, makes an American citizen, wearied with 
or a piping little lord may indulge in, — Europe's petty divisions and formulas, 
language which they afterwards regret, indulge in sonic pleasantries at the ex- 
just as Mr. Chamberlain sometimes takes pense of the British House of Commons, 
the liit in his teeth, and wishes he had which is discussing at great length the 
not later on. But within the walls of Hares-and-Rabbits Bill, the Deceased 
Westminster Palace decorum of speech, Wife's Sister's Bill, the Burials Bill, 
if not always of action, is the rule. In and other things which, he adds, are of 
the lace of such an issue as thai about to such infinitesimal importance. There 
lie decided in Central Asia, where two are indeed seasons when the British 
opposing forces seem with resistless Parliament seems to confine its atten- 
attraction approaching each other for a tion to matters better fitting the con- 
final and desperate crash, the English sideration of a town council or a body 
Prime Minister, although realizing thai of ••selectmen." as we say in New Eng- 
liis ministry for the moment does not land: lint there are also long periods 
stand upon a secure foundation, states during which every evening, when l'ar- 
with utmost calmness, and with ex- liainent sits, is occupied with questions 
ceeding brevity just exactly what Eng- of far-reaching influence, and the greatest 
land is prepared to do. In France he gravity, and to pore oyer the verbatim 
would expect to be talked about in the reports of last night's session in the 

newspapers for a week after this declara- '•Times" is enough to convince one that a 

tion. Enthusiastic reporters would de- conscientious member of Parliament 
scribe his attitude, his dress, and his must study the history of the whole uni- 
gestures when he made an important verse. He knows more about the Antip- 
statemcnl. Old anecdotes would be odes than he knows about White 
furbished up and made to do duty anew. Chapel, and he hears more talk of the 
In England he uoes home quietly at .Mauritius, the Bermudas, the Afghan 
three in the morning, after an exhaust- frontiers, and the Upper Niger, than of the 
ive night, to his official residence, and pollution of the Thames, or the rebuild- 
nothing is said about his personality in ing of Soho, or the condition of the 
the morning papers. When, as in recent poor in Liverpool; in short, the Parlia- 
times, the ebullition of a certain .small ment is Imperial first and local after- 
party, like the Irish members in the wards. It does not occur to the Amcri- 
IIousc of Commons, causes a conflict can mind that England is an Empire 
anil a necessity for answer to swiftly until one gets into Parliament, and hears 
given and generally odious accusations, the constant repetition of Imperial and 
the calmness of the Ministry seems to of Empire. 

increase rather than to diminish, and It is difficult to reconcile the pre- 

the imperturbability of the Speaker is dictions of Radical gentlemen that the 

bey 1 reproach. Mr. Gladstone has House of Lords will some day thwart 

latterly lent his influence with a grim the will of the people, and will then be 

good-humor to enforce the closure, swept away, with the continuous creation 

which is recognized as an heroic remedy of peers by cabinets headed by illus- 

against the delay of public business. trious commoners like Mr. Gladstone 

Mr. Henry .lames, in one of his spark- himself. The creation of these peers is 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



)81 



set down as one of the necessities of 
political life ; and it is accepted as per- 
fectly natural that a great orator or a 
plutocrat, who lias gathered to himself 
ample acres, should sit in the body to 
which belong the princes of the blood 
royal, all the dukes, marquises, earls, 
viscounts, and barons of the realm. A 
peer is made out of an orator who is 
needed in the House of Lords, as was the 
case with Lord Derby. The Gladstone 
ministry has created sixteen peerages in 
three years ; the preceding ministry made 
forty-three peers in six years, and of 
their numbers was Mr. Disraeli, elevated 
to the title of Lord Beaconsfleld. The 
Gladstone Cabinet, before that, made 
thirty-six peers in live years, and one 
peeress, the Baroness Burdett-Coutts. 
Lord Beaconsfleld himself said, in one 
of his early novels, that the English 
peerage was due to three sources, — the 
spoliation of the Church, the open and 
flagrant sale of its honors by the elder 
■Stuart, and the boroughmongering of our 
own times. " These," he added. " are 
the three main sources of the existing 
peerages, and, in ray opinion, disgraceful 
ones." Mr. Disraeli used his scornful 
phrase before successive Reform bills had 
made Parliament a cleanlier body than 
of old. ''But it is still true," says an 
able Radical writer, " that the exercise 
of electoral influence is the surest road 
to the House of Lords." This same writer 
says : " When the Tories were in office, 
in 1866, several peers were created who 
owe their titles to political partisanship, 
and, from 1M74 to 1880, the large-acred 
Tories had a rare time of it. while 
superannuated or incompetent colleagues 
of the minister were elevated into the 
House of Lords when offices could not 
be found for them. For nearly forty 
years Sir John Parkington sat for 
what was once the pocket-borough of 



Durham. In 1N74 the people of Dur- 
ham asserted their independence and 
rejected Sir John. He was at once 
created Lord Hampton. Colonel Wilson 
Pallen, another old colleague, hail to be 
provided for, so he was created Lord 
Wilmarleigh. The Ormshy Gores had 
done much for the Tories in Shropshire 
and other counties, ami the late Lord 
Harlech had his reward in his elevation 
to the Upper House, in 1876. Mr. 
John Tollemache had long served the 
Tories in Cheshire and Suffolk- ; lie had 
his reward the same year by being created 
Lord Tollemache. Mr. Gerard had helped 

to SCOre for Lancaster; he became Lord 

Gerard. Mr. Hilton Joliffe, whose seat for 
Wells was abolished by the last Reform 
Bill, was consoled with the title of Lord 
Hylton. Sir Charles Adderley retired 
from the ministry and became Lord Nor- 
ton. Mr. Disraeli became Earl of Bea- 
consfleld ; Lord Cairns became Earl 
Cairns ; and Mr. Gathorne-Hardy became 
Viscount Cranbrook." This same writer 
makes the assertion that, since the acces- 
sion of the House of Hanover, a very 
huge portion of the modern aristocracy, 
probably one-half, owe one or more titles 
tii the exercise of electoral intimidation. 
Bui whatever influence the Mouse of 
Lords may be disposed to exercise is 
more than neutralized by the constant 
and deliberate attempts of (he House of 
Commons to bring up the laboring classes 
to a position where the}' can defend 
their rights, and to actually place their 
rights in their own hands, as has been 
done in the case of the agricultural 
laborers by the passage of the recent 
Franchise Bill. 

The passion for the possession of land 
by men who have accumulated much 
wealth in England surpasses all other 
passions. For a long time to come, des- 
pite the agrarian agitation, the owner- 



582 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



ship of land will be the basis of power 
and influence and the stepping-stone to 
a fixed place among the nobility. It is 
said that out of one great manufacturing 
establishment in South Wales two peer- 
ages and a baronetcy have been pro- 
duced during the present century. This 
was brought about by the absorption of 
all tlic land in the neighborhood by the 
wealth of the Welsh iron-masters. A 
Mr. Lovil. who went up to London own- 
ing no acres at all, leaves as his suc- 
cessor a son owning more than thirty 
thousand acres of land in eleven different 
counties, and a seat in the House of 
l.onls. The law and the army furnish 
from time to time able recruits to I lie 
Upper House; ami there are also what 
are called (he Civil Service peerages. 
There distinguished servants of the 
Crown are placed to give the country the 
advantage of their experience, legal and 
general. Since 1859 the House of Lords 
has hail added to its ranks Lords Raglan, 
Civile. Strathearn. Sandhurst, Napier, 
Magdala, Airey, Wolseley, and Alcester. 
Historians, poets, and novelists, and 
such small-beer, rarely reach the House 
of Lords, unless they are also important 
wire-pullers and distinguished politi- 
cians. 

The House of Commons in the midst 
of an active session looks like a modern 
chapel which has been taken possession 
(if by a genteel company of practical 
men who feel somewhat out of place. 
If the great House of Representatives 
in Washington, with its noise, its sudden 
darting to and fro of pages, the clapping 

of hands, and the buzz of voices from 

the galleries, is confusing to the stranger, 
the British House of Commons is simply 
bewildering. Ushered through the brill- 
iant lobby into one of the dark galler- 
ies, tlic visitor looks down upon a small 
and compact hall with its twelve side 



windows painted with the arms of the 
boroughs, with the green olass compart- 
ments in its ceiling, tinted with floreated 
circles, and with its floor of perforated 
east- iron. " If is impossible," says 
Mr. Timbs in his " Curiosities of Lon- 
don," " to burn the House down. You 
might set tire to and destroy the furni- 
ture and fittiugs, but the flooring, walls, 
and roof would remain intact." Mr. 
Timbs did not think of dynamite; eveu 
that, as we have recently seen, can do 
but comparatively slight damage. On 
three sides of the House are galleries for 
members and strangers, the six hundred 
and fifty odd M.P.s having scarcely 
three hundred .seats around the table, 
upon which lie the papers and docu- 
ments, and just behind which, at the 
head of the room, Mr. Speaker is en- 
throned upon a kind of Gothic chair on 
a platform. The reporters are huddled 
into a small gallery over the Speaker's 
chair, and above them is a little cage, out 
of which the ladies are allowed to look, 
as Oriental dames peer through the mys- 
terious lattices of Turkish towns. At 
the north end of the House is the Bar, 
and there sits the Sergeant-at-Arms, a 
terrible and important functionary. On 
the Speaker's right, on the front bench, 
sit the ministers ; on the left front bench, 
the leaders of the Opposition, the Ins 
fronting the Outs so closely that even a 
whisper can be heard. Below the Speak- 
er's chair stands the Clerk's table, on 
which lies tin' Speaker's mace while the 
session is in progress; and on cither 
side of tin' House tains the lobby, into 
which, at a division, the members pass, 
I lie ■■ Ayes " to the west, the " Noes" to 
the east. This has been the home of 
the Lower House of Parliament since 
1852, and here the second and third 
stages of parliamentary reform have 
been originated and pushed through. 



F.rnnpE in storm and calm. 



583 



The procedure in the House of Com- 
mons is simple enough, I nit too long 
Cur detailed description here. L - The 
House," says Mr. Eseott, "is at once 
a mirror and epitome of the national 
life. There is no rumor of any sort, 
social, commercial, diplomatic, or politi- 
cal, which does not make its way into the 
lobby of the House." " Before the 
House," says Mr. Palgrave, "passes 
yearly every national anxiety." In the 
House of Commons originates the taxa- 
tion of the realm, and there also arc 
born most of the bills which directly 
affect home politics. A member of Par- 
liament gets no compensation for his 
services, and the unhappy men who 
try to follow their regular professions 
and keep pace with political life very 
often break down under the strain, or 
arc compelled to neglect their private 
interest, and thus to travel on the verge of 
ruin. A conscientious membcrof Parlia- 
ment has to work in committee in the 
morning, and if he does not go to secure 
one of the three hundred regular seats, or 
a coigne of vantage in the members' gal- 
lery while the chaplain is saying prayers 
at four o'clock at each session, even if he 
only comes in after dinner, he will find 
his strength all taken by the long ses- 
sion, which on several days in the week 
does not close before two and three in 
the morning. The scene in the Com- 
mons, with these politicians of the three 
kingdoms, some lounging, some silling 
erect in correct morning or in faultless 
evening dress, and every one, excepting 
the person who happens to be speaking, 
with his hat jammed over his eves, is 
rather amusing. The daily programme 
is usually the same. Before the dinner 
hour, which grows later every year in 
London, petitions and private bills arc 
in order. If an important debate is 
expected, after dinner, members flock 



down from the chilis and from their 
houses, and by placing a card in the 
brass rack on a seat, or leaving papers 
in- "loves, they secure a good place for 
the evening's work. The presentation 
of petitions is simple in the extreme, and 
is often merely the inscription of the 
subject and its origin, says Mr. Eseott, 
on a piece of paper, sent to the report- 
ers' gallery. There are. however, official 
books on the table in front of the Speak- 
er's chair for the reception of these 
important documents. A member who 
wishes to be troublesome can have the 
petition read out at length by one of the 
clerks at the table. Next come notices of 
motions relative to questions, resolutions, 
or bills ; and these motions illustrate in 
the amplest manner the inconvenience of 
having a responsible ministry that sits 
in cither House. The time and patience 
wasted over these absolutely formal and 
generally useless questions it is impossible 
to estimate. As there are always more 
motions than can be handled readily, 
members have to ballot for days on 
which they may present their motions : 
and many bores are thus eliminated. 
Tuesdays and Fridays are for motions. 
Mondays and Thursdays are govern- 
ment nights, Wednesday is open for bills 
only, not for motions; but on this day 
Parliament rises before dinner and does 
not sit again in the evening. 

The bringing in of bills and carrying 
them through their different stages to 
the royal assent, which makes them Acts 
of Parliament, is attendi d with numer- 
ous formulas, which conic from the old 
Norman procedure. When a bill having 
passed through the various stages in the 
Commons is sent up to the Lords, the 
clerk of the Commons indorses on it 
" Soi baitti aux seigneurs;" and a bill 
sent down from the Lords to the Com- 
mons is indorsed in the same wav. When 



584 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



a bill has passed through both Houses, stances, where the Royal assent is re- 

and Majesty has given its consent in fused to a bill, the Clerk says, "i« 

person to its being made law, if it lie lieigne s'avisera." (The Queen will 

a bill of supply, the Clerk reads forth the think about it.) All private and per- 

French phrase: " Ln Reigne remercie sonal bills are passed upon petitions, 

sen /"ins sitjetx. acct-ptent lear binivolence, and many of them have to be advertised 

etainsile mill." To other public bills in newspapers, especially if there is any 

the form of assent is. "in Reigne le interference proposed with land or with 

ri'iili ; " to private bills, " Soi fait other property. 
comme il est desire"." But in rare in- 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



;>K5 



CHAPTER .SIXTY-SIX. 



The Treasury A\" li i p. — Parliamentary Forms. — Oddities of the House of Commons. — Authority of the 

Speaker. — The Home Rule Members. — [rishmeu in London. — Anomalies of English Represen- 
tation. — "Reform." — Tiie Reconstruction of London's Municipal Government. 



THE Treasury Whip, or the party 
agent who attends to the as- 
sembling of the majority for the govern- 
ment during any important debate, is 
more active ami indispensable in the 
House of Commons than in the House 
of Lords. lie has an office hard by the 
Parliament, whence he can send forth 
lithographed notices by scores, whipping 
into the ranks the deserters and neg- 
ligent ; and in many cases he sends 
despatches hundreds, even thousands of 
miles. A prominent member of Parlia- 
ment will travel from Nice or Naples at 
the summons of the Whip without com- 
plaining, and it is amusing to notice the 
precipitation with which active members 
bolt their dinners at the club and depart 
from the comfortable bachelor palaces in 
the gustiest and muddiest of weather so 
soon as the summons is heard. After 
a great discussion, when the issue is to 
be decided by a division, the lobbies of 
the House of Commons seem like the 
ante-chambers of a palace on lire. 
People are rushing to and fro, some to 
summon, others to answer summons. 
The legislators of the Kingdom muster 
as obediently as school children under 
the Peers' gallery, and then divide to 
right and left into their respective lob- 
bies, after which the door-keepers in- 
dulge in an exploration in the hall and 
even look under the benches to see if 
any member has forgotten his duty. 
Back again come the voters, sometimes 
witli the tumult of triumph manifest, but 



only on occasions when the issue is 
national. The dignity of the House is 
rarely startled out of its equilibrium, al- 
though in recent years, under the vexa- 
tions of the Home Rule party, anil the 
strong and sweeping accusations made in 
the heat of the struggle for direction of 
the foreign policy or for the franchise bill, 
there have been wrangles and disputes 
quite as singular and as much to be dep- 
recated as those which often occur in 
legislative chambers in Latin countries. 
Hut those who wish an elaborate des- 
cription of the procedure in the House 
of Commons, will find it in Mr. Escott's 
excellent hook, already referred to, or 
in many a compendium of Parliamentary 
law. The House is full of formulas 
handed down from generations when 
monarchy was by no means so limited as 
it is to-day in its prerogatives, the 
manner of going into committee, by 
replacing the Speaker for the time being 
by the Chairman of the ways and means 
being one of the most interesting of 
these survivals. It comes, Mr. Escott 
tells us, from the old days of the Tudor 
and the Stuart despotism. The Speaker's 
motion " That I do now leave this 
chair" is based upon the old exclusion 
of the King's emissary and spy, their 
speaker, whom the Commons did not 
choose to have in their midst when they 
were engaged in important committee 
worlc. The presence of the ministry in 
Parliament, the acceptance or rejection 
by the government of clauses ami 



586 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



amendments in lulls, the constant decla- 
rations of tli*- Government's policy, and 
the lengthy and evasive speeches of the 
Premier or of his right-hand man, when 
tin' Ministry desires not to commit itself, 
— all these are strange, and striking to 
the stranger, but seem perfectly natural, 
and the only proper way to the English 
mind. In fact, nothing can exceed the 
rigidity of the English belief that things 
are done in England as they should be 
done, and that, foreign ways, it' they dif- 
fer from English ways, must necessarily 
lie erroneous. 

One of the oddities of the House of 
Commons is that the Speaker cannot 
leave his chair lor the evening until the 
adjournment is formally moved, and if 
Mr. Biggar, or other of the enemies of 
the present Speaker, could manage to pre- 
vent the moving of adjournment until 
all the members had left, the Speaker 
would stand an excellent chanee of re- 
maining in his place all night. Il is 
recorded that the House was once 
deserted save by the Speaker himself, 
who had to sit on and on until a mem- 
ber of Parliament should be hunted up, 
and brought in to make the necessary 
motion. Mr. Escott tell us that when 
the House session is closed for the 
night, the Speaker, "rising from his 
chair, bows to the Secretary of the 
Treasury, who acts as his adjutant, and 
who returns obeisance. Immediately 
after this is audible the cry of • Who 
goes home?' a relic of those times when 
members of Parliament used to make up 
parties for the homeward journey to 
protect themselves against the attacks of 
highwaymen. The police in the lobbies, 
however, do not echo this shout, but 
simply announce that ' House is up.' 

The authority of the Speaker has been 
much more definite and pronounced since 
1881, at which period the small hut com- 



pact Irish party undertook the obstruc- 
tion of public business by a campaign 
such as only the Celtic mind, with its 
whimsical love of fun, and its ingenuity 
when bent on annoyance, could devise. 
The adoption of the closure, bor- 
rowed from French parliamentary prac- 
tice, was much criticised when first 
brought into operation; but it has on 

the whole worked well. It must be 
conceded that a parliamentary body has 
the right to force a decision as to the 
closing of a discussion which is sterile 
and profitless, when public business is 
delayed and pressing. The Irish rejoin- 
der to this is of course that all is fair in 
war, in anything which hinders the 
action of England, and, furthermore, that 
Old Ireland will not get her rights unless 
she insists upon thrusting them on the 
public view* at any and all hours. Frosty 
and well-bred Mr. Parncll, with his 
keen incisive way of speaking, his 
polished manners, and his imperturbable 
temper, is now and then somewhat 
embarrassed by the action of the more 
impulsive members of the Irish group, 
some of whom would, if they dared, dance 
a jig on tin Speaker's table, and play leap- 
frog over the venerable Premier's shoul- 
ders, if they thought that by so doing they 
could cause a. check in the management 
of public affairs. It is noteworthy that 
when an Irish member has something 
definite to say, and says it in a manly 
and straightforward fashion, he is almost 
always listened to, if not with sympathy, 
:ii least with courtesy, and the present 
Premier is extremely painstaking in his 

responses even to the youngest of the 
boisterous company. Several very young 
men have been returned to the Home 
Rule Party in Parliament, and among 
them is a son of the famous novelist ami 
essayist, Justin McCarthy, and T. P. 
O'Connor, who possesses real eloquence, 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



587 



aud who, although he wrote a bitter and 
savage book cm Lord Beaconsfleld, 
actually possessed the good-will and 
possibly the admiration of Disraeli until 
his latest day. The loyal Irishmen, 
those who do not affiliate with the Sepa- 
ratists and Home Rulers, are as fire- 
brands to their noisier and more patriotic 
brethren, who never fail to engage in a 
contest which perhaps has been merely 
hinted at in some very mild remarks. 
Many of the young Irish members find 
their parliamentary laurels rather diffi- 
cult to wear. In London they are en- 
vironed with an atmosphere of dislike 
which no sensitive man can long endure 
without feeling resentment and allowing 
it to warp his judgment ; and, further- 
more, as they have no compensation and 
little lime for professional work of any 
sort, they accumulate obligations more 
pressing than those which they have 
towards their constituencies. 

The Home Rule members of the Irish 
representation in Parliament are twenty 
in number, and it is to an American 
curious to note the small number of 
electors in comparison with the popula- 
tions of tin' districts by which they were 
placed in otliee. But a little more than 
five thousand electors voted to put John 
Deasy ami Mr. Parnell in Parliament as 
the representatives of Cork, which has 
one hundred thousand inhabitants. But, 
in considering the number of electors. 
we have to remember that large numbers 
of electors in Ireland were permanently 
disfranchised as a condition of Catholic 
emancipation, aud that it took the peers 
until 1850 to decide that it was safe to 
allow the Irish suffrage to be lowered to 
a £12 rental, which has been retained at 
this figure ever since (hat time ; and not 
later than 18s:) a bill for the assimila- 
tion of Irish to English electoral rights 
was thrown out. It is also true that 



Irish voters are compelled to appear in 
person if objected to at the revision 
courts, and there is a system of legalized 
conspiracies for disfranchising objections, 
similar to those which were kept up by 
the action of the House of Lords and 
its confederates in Great Britain until 
public opinion swept them away. Mr. 
Justin McCarthy was returned from 
Athlone, which has six thousand nine 
hundred inhabitants, by three hundred 
aud sixty-five electors ; Mr. Dawson, 
from Carlow. with seven thousand inhab- 
itants, by three hundred and eight elect- 
ors ; Mr. Moore, from Clonmel, which 
has ten thousand population, by four 
hundred and thirty-four voters; Mr. 
O'Donnell, from Dungarvan, by three 
hundred aud ten electors, out of seven 
thousand population ; Mr. Kenny, from 
Ennis ; Mr. Laver, and Mr. T. P. O'Con- 
nor, the last two from ( ralway, which has 
nearly nineteen thousand inhabitants, 
by one thousand one hundred and twenty- 
four electors ; Mr. Smythwick, from Kil- 
kenny, Mr. Collins, from Kinsale, and 
The O'Donoghue and Messrs. Mac- 
Mahon, Gabbitt, O'Brien, Redmond 
Power, Leamy, W. II. Redmond, and 
Sir John McKenna, by electors in about 
the same proportion as the others. 

The English representation in the Par- 
liament of Great Britain is divided into 
that from cities, boroughs, and districts, 
and that from counties anil divisions ; 
and in the last session of Parliament 
one hundred and seventy-nine cities, 
boroughs, burghs, and districts, possess- 
ing an aggregate population of three 
million two hundred and eighty thousand 
three hundred and thirty-eight, and sub- 
mitting to aggregate assessments of 
something like £38,000,000, had in Par- 
liament two hundred and thirty mem- 
bers, who were returned by four hun- 
dred forty-three thousand six hundred 



588 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

and seven electors; seventy-two cities, in the kingdom. ... It is prepos- 
boroughs, burghs, and districts, having tenuis that forty-two little boroughs 
eleven million five hundred and thirty- should send forty-two members to the 
seven thousand one hundred and twenty- House <>t' Commons, while the nineteen 
four population, and an aggregate elector- great citizen boroughs, with more than 
ship of one million five hundred and two twenty-seven times the population, and 
thousand four hundred and thirty-six. as with twenty-five times more electors, and 
well as an aggregate assessment of assessed at nearly fifty times the amount 
£253,710,700, returned but one hundred of income tax. have only one more rep- 
and thirty members ; ninety-eight coun- reseutative. To secure a real representa- 
ties and divisions, with seven million tiou of the people one thing is essentially 
four hundred and ninety-four thousand requisite, namely, electoral districts, 
eight hundred and three population, and doing away with the distinction between 
an aggregate electorship of four hundred counties and boroughs, whose real and 
and eighty-seven thousand three hundred permanent interests are identical." 
and eighty-seven, and aggregate assess- During the recent campaign in favor 
incuts of £102,427,491, returned one of the extension of the franchise, and 
hundred and fifty-eight members; while while the plan for redistribution was be- 
sixtv-one other counties and divisions, ing arranged, a. list of one hundred and 
with twelve million five hundred and sixty towns and places, each one of 
forty thousand seven hundred and which had more than ten thousand popu- 
seventy-seveu population, seven hundred lation, hut none of which had direct 
and fifty-seven thousand one hundred representation in Parliament, or were 
and twelve aggregate electorship, and incorporated for parliamentary purposes 
an aggregate assessment of twenty- with represented cities, boroughs, or dis- 
five per cent, larger than that of the tricts, was published. These one hun- 
whole ninety-eight other counties and died and sixty towns had an aggregate 
divisions, returned hut one hundred population of three million two hundred 
and twenty-five members. This will and ninety-seven thousand two hundred 
strike any one as a curious anomaly ; and and seventeen, exceeding that of the 
"these figures demonstrate," says a writer seventy-two boroughs and cities, which, 
in the '• Financial Reform Almanac." as we see above, were represented by 
" with equal clearness, first, the mon- one hundred mid thirty members. Yet 
strous anomalies of our present electoral they had no voice in Parliament what- 
system ; and, secondly, the folly of our ever; whilst the latter sent seventy-two 
pseudo-philosophers, who imagine that members to the House of Commons 
the only true principle of representative alone. A striking illustration of the 
government, uanielv government by manner in which the system worked is 
majorities, is erroneous, and ought to lie furnished by St. Helens, which has a 
partially nullified by minorities. They have population of nearly sixty thousand in- 
sofar succeeded bymeansof their three- habitants but uo member in Parliament ; 
cornered crotchet as to place the great while Port Arlington, with scarcely two 
towns of Birmingham, Liverpool, Leeds, thousand live hundred inhabitants, has 
Glasgow, and Manchester on a footing just as much vote-power as Manchester, 
of perfect equality, as regards the vote But the House of Commons is indus- 
power, with the most insignificant place triously reforming itself, and reforming 



EUROPE IN STORM A.XD CALM. 



5X9 



out of existence the privileges which 
have so long kept millions of men who 
should have been voters practically non- 
voters ; and the Distribution Bill, which 
has been led into the public view by the 
new-born Franchise Bill, is to sweep with 
a vigorous broom the old constituencies. 
All boroughs which have less than fifteen 
thousand inhabitants are to be merged 
in surrounding county districts; those 
boroughs with less than fifty thousand 
inhabitants are to have but one member 
each; and those between fifty and one 
hundred and sixty-live thousand are to 
retain two members each. All urban 
constituencies with more than one hun- 
dred and sixty-five thousand inhabitants, 
and all counties, without exception, are 
to be divided into districts, represented 
each by a single member. Both Sir 
Stafford Northcote anil Lord Salisbury 
are understood to adhere warmly to this 
plan, which has nevertheless been tried 
with small success for several years in 
the French Parliament. Gambetta tried 
with all his might to break up thesingle- 
member constituencies, and to substitute 
for Scrutin d'Arrondissement the Scrutin 
</< Liste ; in other words, to build a com- 
pact and vigorous party which could be 
handled and controlled by the usual 
party agencies, rather than to allow the 
continuance in office of a set of petty 
representatives, each committed to all the 
hobbies, and possibly all the faults, of 
his small group. Liberals like the late 
Mr. Fawcett, after a careful survey of 
the Redistribution Bill proposed by their 
party, decided that they could not give 
it their support. Mr. Courtney even 
resigned his office as Secretary of the 
Treasury, and when he did so said that 
Mr. Fawcett, if he had lived, would have 
retired from the postmaster-generalship 
as an indication of his disbelief in the 
one-member system. The Redistribution 



Bill, in its present shape, is the result of 
a compromise, which seems to have been 
somewhat suddenly resolved upon, and 
to which the leading statesmen of both 
parties will adhere, because they feel in 
honor bound to do so, although, on 
second thought, they may not find the 
measure the best that could have been 
proposed. Parliament professes to have 
been anxious to secure a substantial 
representation of minorities, and of all 
important interests, and that it can do 
so by separating the rural from the 
urban voters. 

The history of England for the past 
thirty years may be said to represent a 
constant progress towards electoral re- 
form, and towards an amelioration of the 
abuse consequent on the maintenance 
of privileges, — progress checked and 
hindered, sometimes absolutely set aside, 
by the pressing anxiety of attending to 
affairs abroad. England is willing and 
able to set her house in order, but every 
time she takes the mop in hand, and 
has made ready to goon with the cleans- 
ing, a disturbance outside calls her 
forth, and the internal economy must 
suffer for the time being. Two great 
parties in the enormous metropolis of 
London are at present eager to do battle 
oxer the question of municipal reform. 
The absorption, the concentration, the 
centralization party finds itself con- 
fronted by the passionate admirers of 
the vestry system. The old-fashioned 
and amiable gentlemen who have long 
been prominent in vestry affairs look 
forward with horror and with some little 
contempt to the advent of professional 
politicians; and the question would be 
decided within a year, doubtless in 
favor of the centralizing party, were 
it not for the constant aggravation of 
the Egyptian problem, and the necessity 
for the nation to concentrate its strength 



590 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



upon extension and self-protection 
abroad. Very likely the Redistribution 
Hill has been put back for a long time 
by the death of Gordon at Khartoum; 
but, although delayed and harassed 
by the peculiar duties which England 
chooses to assume abroad, the plan of 
liberal reform is never relinquished. 
During a period of six years of Conserv- 
ative rule, when Imperialism was thought 
of more importance by those who had 
the governing power in their hands 
than the correction of abuse and the 
consequent spread of contentment at 
home, the Liberals never lost hope, ami 
they took up the unfinished work where 
they had left it when they left power. 

The centralization of the city govern- 
ment in London, or, to speak by the card, 
the reconstruction of the government of 
London by means of a municipal bill, will 
doubtless be taken up by the same Parlia- 
ment which will have to inaugurate some 
of the sternest legislation ever known in 
England with regard to the tenure of 
land, and it is not until the tenure of 
land has been changed in its form that 
the absolute reconstruction of London 
and of its government can lie hoped for. 
It is the privileges of gentlemen like the 
Dukes of Portland, Bedford, and West- 
minster ; it is the fact that vast tracts of 
land within the metropolitan district 
are in the possession of families from 

whose grasp they will not. under present 
legislation, he allowed to pass, and of 



aristocratic owners, who have nothing to 
gain and much to lose by the march of 
popular improvement, — it is to these 
things that the delay in the rebuilding of 
London, as Paris ami Vienna have been 
rebuilt, is to be attributed. No emperor 
can. with magic wand, cause streets of 
palaces to rise where now there are 
grimy acres of three-story, mean-looking 
houses, built of greasy bricks. The 
landed interests in London clash ; they 

could not be brought harmoniously to 
work in favor of a great improvement, 
ami London must wait for its rebirth 
until the country has passed through its 
bitter experience of agrarian reform. 
Doubtless London, like Paris, will al- 
ways be kept more or less under the 
thumb of Parliament, for it is the capi- 
tal, and, as such, must be subjected to 
restrictions and rules to which other 
cities might, with reason object. Rut 
when some mighty alchyinist has melted 
up in his crucible of municipal reform 
all the antique plate and jewelry of the 
Mate, and all the formulas and rubbish 
of the petty vestries, with their cross- 
purposes and their maintenance of old 
privileges, there will arise out of the 
vapors a capital which, while it may 
not be gifted with the beauty of more 
southern cities, will have a might and ele- 
gance, and a grandeur worthy of the 
largest collection of human beings in any 
civilized countrv. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



591 



CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN. 



The Evolution Towards Democracy. — Sir Charles Dilke and Mr. Chamberlain. — English Directness 
and Plainness of Speech. — Lord Hartington. — Mr. Labouchei'e. — English Sources of Revenue. 

— The Land Tax. — How it i- Evaded. — Free Trade in Land. — Taxing the Privileged Classes. 

— Tin' < loming Struggle. 



"OT even the first gentleman in 
England pretends to deny that 
the country is formally engaged in the 
gradual evolution towards democracy. 
Now and then some two-penny dema- 
gogue, who wishes to obtain notoriety as 
tin agitator, insists that tin' progress is 
imaginary rather than real, and that 
nothing can lie accomplished save by 
violent and immediate revolution. But 
this sort of demagogue is not even con- 
sidered respectable within the limits of 
his own advanced party, ami to lie thought 
not respectable, in the English sense of 
the word, is equivalent to the complete 
wrecking of one's hopes. Radicalism 
itself, from the aristocratic point of view, 
is naturally thought low. If a gentle- 
man of birth and position like Sir Charles 
Dilke, or a gentleman of undoubted ca- 
pacity and fitness for affairs like Mr. 
Chamberlain, openly associates with the 
Radicals, he is qualified as eccentric, but 
the unwritten and unspoken criticism 
which those who daily meet these gentle- 
men in the political arena reserve to 
themselves, is that their eccentricity is 
perilously near the verge of the disrepu- 
table. 

Sir Charles Dilke and Mr. Chamber- 
lain, and other advanced standard bear- 
ers of the democratic idea, trouble them- 
selves hut little as to the opinion of the 
aristocratic class. They occupy them- 
selves in the most iudustrious and prac- 
tical mauuer with directing the pacific 



revolution which will bring in its train 
greater changes than tiny other country 
in Europe litis seen in this generation. 
Mr. Chamberlain is perhaps, open to the 
reproach of too great frankness in 
pointing out tin- sweeping reforms or 
alterations which are to be made in the 
systems of government and society. He 
rouses an antagonism which otherwise 
might have slumbered contentedly on its 
carved and painted benches. What Mr. 
Bradlaugh, in his Hall of Science', may 
or may not say , is thought by the mem- 
bers of the House of Lords of small 
consequence: but when a cabinet minis- 
ter and the Director of the Board of 
Trade openly advocates changes in the 
property laws, they are roused not only 
to resentment but to action. There 
never was, in the history of American 
political campaigning, a more active, 
energetic and determined canvass of a 
country than that undertaken against 
Mr. Gladstone and his works by the 
Marquess of Salisbury, in the autumn 
and summer of 1884: neither is there in 
the heat of American political speaking 
any greater violence of language, or, I 
had .almost said, vituperation, than was 
manifest in the speeches of those who 
opposed the Franchise Hill. That state- 
linos and elegance of diction in writing 
and speaking on political affairs, which 
was once characteristic of the greal lords 

of the country, has long been conspicu- 
ous by its absence. It was the firmness 



592 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

of their belief in the durability of their vast empire and destroy our influence 

privilege which gave them Mich self-pos- abr 1. Let us not listen to Quakers, 

session. Now they begin to sec that like Mr. Bright, and Utopian theorists, 

the increase in the Democracy's power like Mr. Chamberlain, or to shriekers, 

fatally means the decrease of their like Mr. Bradlaugh, who would have us 

own. concentrate our whole attention upon the 

Every well-educated Englishman of poorer classes at home." Between the 

Protestant training has that inconven- claims of the old aristocracy and the 

ient conscience which will not permit new democracy, — claims so diametri- 

liim. for a long time, even when it is lor cally opposed to each other, — a Liberal 

his own interest, to advocate a measure minister of war, like Lord Hartington, 

which may do wrong to any one, and must from time to time, suffer great 

since the full and frank exposure by tin 1 perplexity. A Liberal cabinet, with men 

apostles of the new democracy of the within it who believe that England 

abuses of privilege which were grafted should send no military forces on con- 

lipou the land system and upon the quest, and men within it who believe 

grounding of political power on the pos- just the opposite thin", is a divided 

session of land, many a lord of high force, which can but suffer from the divis- 

tlegree is beginning to confess that a ion. That notable English conscience 

change would not lie unwelcome even which prevails, as we have said, among 

to himself. Men like the Marquis of the aristocratic as well as lower down in 

Salisbury, who have a linn belief in the the social scale, is conspicuous in the 

Imperial idea, in the necessity for Eng- case of the Marquis of Hartington, the 

land of a constant aggressive attitude, eldest son of one of the very greatest of 

in tin' perpetuation of Lord Beacons- all the English land-owners, the Duke of 

field's dangerous policy, comfort them- Devonshire, whose estates extend iuto 

selves with the conclusion that no fourteen different counties, and who 

de cracy can maintain or direct the owns nearly two hundred thousand 

antique policy of Greal Britain without acres of laud, which give him almost as 
having the protection of a governing many pounds sterling as annual rental, 
class having leisure, because of its for- who has forty-two church-livings in his 
tune got from land, to occupy itself in a gift, six magnificent country-seats, — 
dignified manner with the conduct of Chatsworth, Hardwick, Holker Hall, 
armies and navies, with the regulation Compton Place, Bolton Abbey, Lismore 
of treaties ami the chess-board games of Castle, — and Devonshire House in Lon- 
diplomacy. "A democracy," so say don. Not more than three centuries 
these noble lords, •• would place us in the and a, half ago (he head of this great 
precarious position of a second or third house was an obscure country gentle- 
class power in Europe. If we have an man in Suffolk ; to-day his descendants 
upheaval of the substrata of society, and hold three peerages and two hundred 
the accession to power of men who know and twenty thousand acres of land in 
nothing of din old plan of government, England and Ireland. This founder of 
we shall go to war. (Jive us Beacons- the house was William Cavendish, sup- 
field's game, with its risks and dangers, posed to be he who wrote the life of 
rather than the stay-at-home policy of Cardinal Wolsey, and whom Shakespeare 
the Radicals, who would break up our mentions. The Cavendishes have always 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



593 



had the reputation of being good land- 
lords, and a more touching demonstration 
of affection was never witnessed in Eng- 
land than at the great gathering of the 
tenants at Chatsworth, when Lord Fred- 
erick Cavendish, who had been assassi- 
nated in Ireland, was brought home to 
be buried. 

The Marquis of Hartington, now a 
comely gentleman of fifty, is reported 
to be utterly frank in his opinions as 
to the future. He was once asked 
by an American how he could con- 
tribute to a current of opinions which 
would one day sweep away till mem- 
bers of his class, and he answered that 
there was no help for it; by which 
he doubtless meant that his conscience 
compelled him to it. Such men stand 
high in the estimation of both parties ; 
at the same time, like the young noble- 
man in Mr. Henry James's story, they 
have not the remotest notion that all the 
revolutions in the world will abate the 
amount of their income one jot. Lord 
Hartington went into the House of Com- 
mons when he was twenty-three ; thence 
to St. Petersburg, whither he attended 
Earl Granville, who was then ambassa- 
dor ; in process of time, found himself 
vested with a mission of bringing about 
a vote of non-confidence against the 
ministry in Parliament ; did it with 
much skill ; made a parliamentary repu- 
tation, interspersing his political labors 
with social enjoyment with the Prince of 
Wales, whose elder he was, and with 
whom lie has in his time indulged in 
many a frolic; and when he was of ma- 
ture years stood in the rather unique 
position of being heir to one of the 
noblest of the English duchies, in pos- 
session of a vast income of his own, a 
leader of fashion, and an acknowledged 
leader of the Liberals. Minister of war 
to-day, he can look back to the age of 



thirty-three, and reflect that he then 
held the same office. He was a civil 
Lord of the Admiralty at thirty ; in fact, 
he was fully up to the level of his ad- 
vantages and improved every one of 
them; when he could not be in active 
political ministry he was willing to be a 
postmaster-general. He is one of those 
who like to do everything thoroughly. 
If he drives a drag it is faultlessly cor- 
rect in style. He is a great hunter. 
He loves whist, and he enjoys to the 




JOSEPH CHAMBERLAIN. 

From Photopraph by London Stereoscopic Co. 

utmost one of those old-fashioned 
parliamentary sittings, such as some- 
times occur over a debate on the 
address, when good sound blows are 
given and taken with perfect temper 
on either side. A stammering and 
rather shy speaker, what he says is 
always telling. 

.Some degree of the resentment pri- 
vately cherished against Lord Harting- 
ton by members of the landed aristoc- 
racy, who, while they respect, cannot 
agree witli him, is visited openly upon 
new-comers, like Mr. Chamberlain, who is 



594 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

called with English bluntness a parvenu, blow up his Sloane-street residence with 

and like Sir Charles Dilke. who isconsid- dynamite. On the continent ho is popu- 

ered as unreasonably radical. These gen- lar. He lias a country-house near 

tlemen occasionally receive verbal easti- Toulon, where he goes to get rid of the 

gation from some noble marquis or other melancholy gathered in the London fogs, 

able aristocratic politician ; but this only and it gives him a certain pleasure to 

adils fuel to the flame of their enthusi- be interviewed by radical Frenchmen, 

asm. Sir Charles Dilke is the brother who attribute to him monstrosities of 

of Ashton Dilke, who died some years statement which make the hair of the 

ago, and who was far more advanced in aristocratic gentlemen in the House of 

radicalism than the present representa- Lords stand upon end with horror when 

five of the family and owner of the they read them. 

•■ Athemeum," — the principal literal v There are several gentlemen in the 
critical journal of London, — lias ever House of Commons who form an able 
presumed to lie. Mr. Chamberlain does addition to the little corps of distin- 
uot in his speeches talk so much of pos- guished and wealthy Liberals and Radi- 
sible republicanism as of practical meas- cals ; men like Mr. Labouchere, of 
ures for reform in legislation : but in his large fortune, of consummate journal- 
public writings and speeches Sir Charles istic ability, freshness of style, and 
Dilke has clearly shown that he likes re- charm of manner, yet with frankness 
publicanism with a continental flavor. He born of complete independence, and who 
was, even when at the University, thor- tell the truth to shame the devil, no 
oughly radical in his ideas. He adored, matter if England be the worse for it. 
as indeed did every one who met him, Mr. Labouchere is twin member for 
the Italian patriot, Mazziui. He is Northampton with Mr. Bradlaugh, and 
said to have attempted to convert the has well and firmly St 1 for his col- 
Prince of Wales to republican opinions, league each time that the great free- 
He had that symmetrical education thinker and free-speaker has forced 
which enables all English gentlemen to his way in only to be expelled again 
do so much and many things so well. forthwith from the House of Commons, 
To him is due the phrase of " Greater which dislikes to receive him. .Mr. 
Britain," which has been embodied in Labouchere goes everywhere. Now he 
English politics. A man of twenty-live, may be found at Marlborough House, 
he circled the world and made a. brilliant getting the latest gossip from the Prince 

I k. At twenty-six he was a Liberal of Wales, and next he will be heard of 

leader in Parliament, and the old family in his place in the Commons, demanding 
home in Sloanc street was the scene of the full withdrawal of the English troops 
many brilliant gatherings of the lights from Egypt. lie is a kind of guerilla, 
of the literary and scientific society of lighting on the side which pleases him 
Northern Europe. Sir Charles is a best, and always anxious for truth, the 
straightforward politician. Although a word which he has inscribed as the title 
good Democrat he docs not sympathize of his picturesque and sparkling journal. 
with the Irish demand for separation, Democracy means, among other things, 
doubtless prompted by the growth of the a careful investigation into the sources 
Democratic feeling in Ireland as in Eng- of revenue and of expenditure in Eng- 
land; and there have been threats to laud; and during the last ten years the 



El ROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



595 



nation has awakened to the fact that 
the landed aristocracy has, during its 
long season of privilege, managed to 
abate or abolish the greater part of taxa- 
tion upon its land, and also to convey 
into its own family circles nearly all the 
important revenues from government 
service. The statistics on this point 
are extremely curious and interesting. 
It is confidently asserted that the House 
of Lords represents 211 families of 
barons, who have 2,4'.)2 people, hold- 
ing 4 , < J ; ) L) offices, receiving from the 
English nation £31,126,188 annually; 
60 families of viscounts, with 963 people, 
holding 1,561 offices, and receiving 
£11,211,202 per year: 200 families of 
earls, with 3,391 people, holding 5,903 
offices, with £48,181,202 per annum; 
33 families of marquises, with 626 
persons in 1,252 offices, at £8,305,950 
yearly ; and finally, 28 ducal families, 
with 51'J people, holding 1,013 offices, 
at £9,760,090 every year. Thus the 
gigantic total of 108^ millions sterling 
remains in the hands or in the disposi- 
tion and gift of the House of Lords. 
What ducks and drakes the coming De- 
mocracy will make of this money, and 
how quickly it will wrest it from the 
hands of the hereditary House! The 
stinging English statement that the pub- 
lic service is a house of refuge for the 
poor relatives of the aristocracy is 
founded upon absolute fact. These ap- 
pointments, represented in the 13,888 
offices, which the House of Lords in one 
way and another disposes of , are in the 
army, the navy, the church, the uni- 
versities, the Colonial and Indian civil 
and military administrations, — the es- 
tablished church furnishing some of the 
fattest places. There are hundreds upon 
hundreds of appointments of £10,000, 
£5,000, £3,000, £1.5(10. and £1,200 
yearly. It is not astonishing that, with 



this superabundance of power and pat- 
ronage in its hands, the hereditary 
house should frown upon the admission 
to the franchise of the two millions of 
voters whose liberation must be ac- 
counted the final triumph of the Demo- 
cratic spirit in< Ireat Britain. In England, 
quite contrary to the case in Ireland, no 
great bitterness of feeling seems to 
enter into the agitation for land reform ; 
Imt the movement is characterized by 
the very greatest determination. The 
race question is of course eliminated. 
The farmer, too, has a kind of pity for 
tiie gentleman who is stranded finan- 
cially by having left upon his hands the 
farms which can be no longer worked 
to advantage ; and the farmer looks 
with a little suspicion upon the elevation 
of the agricultural laborer to political 
independence. Such is the respect for 
rank in England that there is a kind of 
reluctance to take away, or to hint at 
taking away, the broad acres upon which 
the ducal and baronial claims and fortunes 
are founded. There is not, nor ever can 
be, the least possibility of a Jacquerie in 
England. The Democracy is cool and 
long-headed, and understands that it 
must keep itself well in hand to gain its 
victory by votes, not by shouting and 
fighting. To tight were hopeless; to 
demonstrate in noisy crowds is of com- 
paratively little use. In last summer's 
campaign each party ridiculed and de- 
nied the authenticity of the other's 
demonstrations in mass meetings. The 
vote is the thine-, and the Democratic 
voters feel that in time they will lie more 
than a match for aristocracy and plu- 
tocracy combined. 

The statistics of land-ownership, and 
particularly in England ami Wales, have 
been very carefully collected by the con- 
tending parties since 1872, when the 
agitation took definite shape. John 



596 



EUROPE f.V STORM AND CALM. 



Stuart Mill and John Bright had made 
many statements as to the monopoly of 
land in the kingdom ; and so a Parlia- 
mentary Commission was established to 
investigate the holdings of rentals, and 
came before the public with the aston- 
ishing statement that, instead of there 
beiDg few, there were a great many 
owners of land in the three kingdoms; 
in fact, that there were more than 
1,100,0(10 persons, having a combined 
holding of 72,000,000 acres. They 
took care, however, to exclude such 
parts of certain counties as are included 
in the metropolis of Loudon, which would 
have made a very great difference in 
their aggregate. Furthermore, they had 
reckoned leaseholders as owners, which, 
as a member of Parliament said at the 
time, was very much like calling a hired 
horse an owned horse. They had also 
tumbled into this curious return of land- 
ownership all the crown property, the 
war-offices and railway property, the 
asylum, almshouses, charity, poor, and 
other trustees; church-wardens, parish 
and police-officers, colleges, ecclesias- 
tical commissions, and dozens of other 
bodies or persons who could not officially 
he defined as owners of land. They 
also stated tin' extent of commons and 
waste lands in such a manner as to 
lender their whole return untrustworthy 
and misleading. From careful returns 
made in 1871 it appears that in Eng- 
land and Wales 12 persons own more 
than l.oi)(),oi)i) acres; (JG persons, 
1,917,076 acres; 100 persons possess 
3,917,641 acres; 280 persons, 5,425,764 
acres, or nearly one-sixth of all the en- 
closed land in the two countries; 523 
persons own one-fifth of all England 
and Wales ; 710 own one-fourth of both 
countries ; 871 persons possess 9,267,031 
acres; and 10,207 persons possess two- 
thirds of the whole of England and 



Wales ; 4. '.100 men own more than half 
England and Wales ; 26 persons own half 
the county of Northumberland, which 
contains 12,200 acres. In Scotland a 
striking instance of land absorption is 
that of the Duke of Sutherland, who 
owns nearly one-eighteenth part of the 
whole land. In Ireland, out of the 
whole area of twenty million odd acres, 
12 persons own 1,297,888 acres; 292 
persons own one-third of the island ; 744 
own nearly one-half of it ; and two-thirds 
of the land of Ireland is possessed by 
1,942 people. 

The aim of the new democracy is free 
trade in laud, the prevention of the ap- 
propriation of common lands by private 
land-owners, very possibly a change in 
the system of tenure, increase of land- 
owners, and the game-laws, the con- 
version of lands now lying idle to the 
supply of food, thus lessening the neces- 
sity for foreign imports, and the bring- 
ing up of the land tax to its old level 
of four shillings in the pound, — a tax 
that was levied by legislation in the 
time of William and Mary, but that 
has been regularly avoided by an in- 
genious system of allotments and re- 
demptions ever since. The democratic 
statisticians reckon that some thirty or 
forty millions might be restored to the 
annual revenue if the tax-evading land 
owners could he made to pay up. The 
redemptions or sales of land tax, at 
eighteen or twenty odd years' purchase, 
according to value, came in at the time 
of Mr. Pitt, who took any means to raise 
money ; and it has been practically main- 
tained ever since by the system of 
quotas. In the south counties of Great 
Britain the land-owners have rarely been 
made to pay more than one shilling in 
the pound ; many have had to pay but 
six pence, some only one penny ; and 
some less than a farthing. The general 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



597 



average for land taxation of Great 
Britain was only one and three-fourths 
pence, in the assessments of 1877-78. 
" This," says the author of a powerful 
article on the British Revenue System, 
" is a pretty account to be given of a tax 
called by act of Parliament one of four 
shillings in the pound on the full annual 
value." In fourteen years of the reign 
of William III., the whole public income 
from all sources was £107,437,540, to 
which the land tax contributed more 
than one-fifth of the total amount. But 
in 188:3 the public income from taxes 
and ordinary receipts amounted to £87,- 
205,184, to which the land tax con- 
tributed but one-eighty-second part of 
tin 1 whole. 

Thus the coming struggle to put the 
taxation upon the privileged class, to 
modify, substitute, possibly withdraw, 
many of their privileges, to bring into 
the public service new classes of men not 
representing special families, or branches 
of families, to establish party govern- 
ment rather than class government, — all 



this is meant by the democratic and 
radical revolution in England. There 
is no need to fear bloodshed, or ruin of 
property. The Englishman is eminently 
conservative, and especially with regard 
to the sacreduess of property. Then' 
will be changes of ownership without 
destruction of the things to be owned. 
In 1832 the first Reform Bill was 
thought by the conservatives to have a 
reign of terror behind it; but 1867 came 
slowly to the front and brought no grizzly 
horrors of revolution. The conservative 
country squire might say that the prog- 
ress of these reforms had indirectly 
brought about the dynamite atrocities 
and the revolt across the Irish channel ; 
lint few would be willing to grant this. 
Between 1867 and 1884 a new England 
has been constructed within old England, 
but it is still behind (he curtain. It will 
appear in the twinkling of an eye one 
day presently, and then all the world 
will consider its advent natural and 
proper. 



598 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM 



CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT. 

Public and Popular Speakers. — Spurgeon in his Tabernacle. — The Temperance Question. — The Finan* 
cial Reform League. — Facts for Rich and Poor. — Bradlaugh in the Hall of Science. — Republican 

Meeting in Trafalgar Square. — Gladstone al a Funeral. — " Oh ! How Dreadful ! "— Public Meetings 

in England. — The Lord Mayor of London. — Banquets at the Mansion House. — The City Com- 
panies. — " Lord Mayor's Day." — The Procession. 

ALTHOUGH the Radicals are from ual, abounding in homely metaphor, 
time to time disposed scofflugly to yel sometimes mounting to the height of 
denv that the House of Commons and genuine eloquence. He sways his tre- 
1 1 if House of Lords constitute a peo- mendous congregation, made up from the 
pie's parliament, they an' in no wise lower middle classes of London's shop- 
deprived of the most ample opportuni- men, workmen, and women, irresistibly 
lies for public and even noisy discus- whichever way lie wills. To the thou- 
sion of all the questions which vitally sands for whom the higher intellectual 
concern Great Britain. The frankness life is scarcely possible he is an unfail- 
and plainness of speech so prevalent ing fountain of inspiration, and he draws 
in Parliament, the indisposition to dis- to the huge Tabernacle, as it is called, 
guise unsavory truths by ambiguous perhaps the oddest collection of strangers, 
phrases, are still more apparent in the from all parts of the world, that can be 
speeches of public orators not in political found in any building used as a church. 
life; and while they do not quite reach Foreigners go out of curiosity, the 
the virulence sometimes remarked in the piously inclined visit the Tabernacle to 
addresses of politicians in America, yet. judge for themselves of Spurgeon's spirit- 
they are extremely plain. We have in ual force, and hundreds of the Arabs of 
America heard so much of the inability London, — people homeless and almost 
of tin- English to speak in public freely destitute, men and women from the 
and without embarrassment, thai itsome- slums, — steal into the great galleries as 
what surprises an American residing for if coming to the sanctuary for a refuge 
a short time in London to discover a which they can find nowhere else. Spur- 
great number of excellent public orators genu rarely touches directly on the great 
outside as well as within the sphere of national topics, but, when he does, his 
politics. touch is firm and vigorous. His denun- 
Two men who speak directly to the eiation of a. mistaken policy has weight 
public heart, whose spheres of influence which is felt up river at Westminster, 
are widely different, and whose reputa- In him are none of the tricks and lollies 
tions have passed far beyond the boun- found in the delivery of the fashionable 
daries of their native land, merit a clergyman. There is no hesitancy, no 
moment of our attention. Spurgeon and coughing, and no interpolation of " Alts " 
Bradlaugh are great forces in the metrop- and " Ohs." Indeed, all the great 
olis, forces which are undoubtedly used English speakers enunciate their words 
for good. Spurgeon is intensely spirit- quite fully and clearly, and with much the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



599 



same inflection found in American ora- 
tors. 

The Metropolitan Tabernacle, in which 
Spurgeon preaches, is certainly one of 
the curiosities of London. It stands in 
a rather frowzy section of the great city, 
— where rambling streets, ill-kept, are 
lined with low and dingy houses ; and as 
the great congregation of nearly seven 
thousand persons pours outof the Taber- 
nacle, on Sunday mornings, it is com- 
pelled to pass through a doulile row of 
degraded men and women, who are wait- 
ing impatiently for the opening of the 
public houses from one to three o'clock. 
The amiable Londoner of the upper 
class, wheu asked to give a good reason 
for the laws regulating the sale of liquor 
on Sunday in the British capital, frankly 
confesses that he knows nothing of it, 
save that it seems planned to promote 
rather than check intemperance. On a 
dull Sunday the London workers and 
the equally large class of people out of 
work rise late, and, instead of bending 
their thoughts on church and chapel (for 
in England the dissenting churches are 
called chapels, to distinguish them from 
the established Episcopal church), pace 
the streets or linger at corners, longing 
for the moment when the Sunday carouse 
may begin. In the mid-day hours the 
gin-palace doors swing widely open, long 
processions of miserably clad people 
hasten to and fro, bearing jugs or bot- 
tles, or crowd around the high counters, 
paying their hard-earned money for that 
which is not bread. At three o'clock 
they are turned out, and the doors are 
banged remorselessly together ; but from 
six o'clock again gin and rum reign 
supreme until a late hour. Throughout 
each quarter of London inhabited by 
the poor classes the public houses have 
monopolized the best street cornel's. 
They are of uniform type, neatly painted 



outside, divided into stalls with high 
partitions, the fever for class distinc- 
tions prevailing even in these establish- 
ments. To foreigners, nothing can be 
more comfortless than these dens, where 
the new comers constantly crowd out 
those who precede them, and where the 
language and the atmosphere leave much 
to be desired. The worthy gentlemen 
of the Financial Reform Association — 
a league established nearly forty years 
ago for the advocacy of eci mical gov- 
ernment, just taxation, and perfect free- 
dom of trade — constantly lay before 
the people the ruin wrought on the 
nation by the favors heaped upon the 
publican because he contributes so pow- 
erfully to the revenue. This Reform 
League says a revolution is needed in 
fiscal matters, when the lands of the 
rich pay but £1,000,000 sterling a year 
in land tax, while the pipe and pot of 
the laborer pay £30,000,000 sterling 
per annum in customs and excise duty : 
when the rich man's quota of taxation 
is collected from him cheaply and 
directly, but the workingmen's allot- 
ment is collected by a system that robs 
them of still another £30,000,000 ster- 
ling in the process; wheu the lands 
which are bequeathed by the rich at 
death pay no probate and little succes- 
sion duty, but the savings of the people 
in the lower and middle classes arc taxed 
at the rate of six and one-halt' millions 
yearly by probate and legacy duties; 
when the remedy of the law and the 
transfer of small land and house prop- 
erties is kept out of the reach of the 
mass of the people by the heavy exactions 
in deed stamps and other legal fees 
and charges ; when sobriety and tem- 
perance are discouraged by a tax of 
£4,500,000 sterling per annum on the 
workman's tea, coffee, and cocoa, and 
the workman has to pay still other 



COO 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



millions for the collection of these 
£4,500,000. 

The Financial Reform League is not 
in error in condemning the excise as one 
of the most grievous burdens on the 
people. These excise duties were first 
imposed in England in 16GG. They were 
then solely laid on public drinks, — beer. 
cider, spirits, coffee, and tea, — and they 
took the place of a revenue, hitherto 
due from the land in the shape of feudal 
rents. The amount of the latter revenue 
in 1660 was £100,000 sterling per year, 
hut the amount of the newly imposed 
excise was £610,000 sterling per annum. 
Thus, the facility with which the poor 
can he robbed for the benefit of the rich 
being established, the retention of excise 
ever since asagreat branch of the revenue 
has followed. The famous malt duty- 
was abolished some time ago; but Mr. 
Gladstone substituted for it. in 1880, 
an excise on beer, which has since 
brought in an enormous revenue. It 
seems to the impartial observer as if the 
English workman drank his beer ami 
spirits in large quantities to no other 
end than to aid in supporting the fleets 
and armies of Her Britannic Majesty, 
and the maintenance of her great body 
of collectors and officials throughout the 
immense extent of territory over which 
the English flag floats. Hut- the work- 
man would probably say. as indeed he 
does say. when the subject is brought to 
his attention : — 

" 1) — n a man's eyes, 
If ever lie tries 
To rc>l> a poor man of his beer." 

Mr. Spurgeon, from hi.s outlook in the 
high pulpit of his Tabernacle, sees clearly 
what is going on around him, and battles 
against the intemperance of the lower 
classes : lint the battle is a long and 
dillieult one. 



The stronghold of the redoubtable 
Bradlaugh, whose name is as familiar as 
that of the Prince of Wales to London- 
ers, is in an unpretentious structure in 
Old Street, in the City Road, — another 
quarter which to American eyes seems 
shabby and somewhat degraded. All 
around it are the humble, although 
cleanly, houses of the commoner sort of 
mechanics and laborers, liberally inter- 
spersed with the shining gin-palaces 
above alluded to. Within the Hall of 
Science, as Mr. Bradlaugh's secular 

church is called, order, however, reigns 
supreme. There is always a great crowd 
to hear the distinguished orator and 
Republican, who is usually accompanied 
on the platform by Mrs. Besant, whose 
name has been so long associated with 
his work, or by some other of the ladies 
or gentlemen of the advanced Radical 
party in the kingdom. Strangers of all 
shades of opinion are welcome, and now 
and then a sturdy supporter of the Mon- 
archy gets up in his place and indulges 
in an assault, on Bradlaugh, if it hap- 
pens to be one of those nights when that 
orator attacks what he calls " The House 
of Brunswick." Nothing can exceed 
the ingenuity with which Bradlaugh 
manages to escape the accusation of dis- 
loyalty, while at the same time he plainly 
condemns Monarchy as a system. To 
be rated as "disloyal" in England is to 
be not respectable, and would be pretty 
nearly equivalent to social ostracism. 
Bradlaugh is a born controversialist, and 
of no mean order. He should have been 
a politician, and would have been far 
more useful to the slate in that capacity 
than in his coveted role of simple agitator 
and social economist. In his oratory, 
which is nearly always striking, some- 
times brilliant, often profound, there are 
slight traces of an early humble origin — 
nameless shibboleths — lapses from pro- 



EUROPE 1\ STORM AND (AIM. 



(',01 



priety in speech, which seem to cling 
more closely in England than in America 
to men who have fought their way up 
from the bottom. Bradlaugh never for- 
gets what is due to his congregation, 
which gives him an abiding place, a foot- 
hold, in the great city, the majority of 
whose inhabitants is entirely hostile to 
him. But he knows that out beyond Lon- 



lays down his accusations of what has 
or has not been done in Parliament 
House. Then the crowds start in pro- 
cession for Westminster, but are always 
turned back by the police before they 
reach Parliament, and disperse good- 
humoredly, without more than the usual 
proportion of broken heads, when the 
people are "out" in London town. In 




MASS-MEKTINti ON TRAFALGAR SQUARE. 



don, and outside of the trading class, 
there is an England which listens to him 
with admiration and respect. 

Now and then he sallies forth on 
some great occasion, regardless of the 
danger, always prominent in London, of 
butting liis head against the law. lie 
summons thousands of the populace to 
meet him in Trafalgar square at the foot 
of the Nelson monument, and there he 



Paris this would be magnified into the 
proportions of a great riot; the prime 
minister would be asked to " explain ; " 
some one would say that a revolution 
was at hand. But it is thought odd if 
on a Lord Mayor's Day. or on the return 
from tiie Derby, there be not some well- 
cracked iieads. The blows seem to lie 
the result of surplus energy rather than 
a disposition to do injury. I once saw 



602 



FrROTE IN STORM AND PALM. 



in front of Charing Cross half-a-dozen 
rough young fellows push into the very 
midst of a Lord Mayor's procession, 
striking out right and left, rolling over 
and over in their haste, and coming out 
on the other side all in the best of good 
nature, each having taken the other's 
buffeting as a part of the ceremony. 

Bradlaugh naturally frowns on dis- 
order, and tin' authorities have no fear 
of his meetings. Half-a-dozen gigantic 
policemen stroll sleepily through the 
crowds, and if a disturbance occurs they 
walk lazily towards it, confident that it 
will have ceased ami thai the disturbers 
will he dispersed by the time the repre- 
sentatives of the law arrive on the scene. 
Bradlaugh at the liar of the House of 
Commons: Bradlaugh in the loliliv of 
the House, scuffling with the officials who 
expel him; Bradlaugh in the courts, 
where he is prosecuted for technical 
irregularities ; Bradlaugh in his own 
vigorous newspaper and in his reported 
lectures, in his hooks, and cm his John- 
street platform, — is a figure which London 
will miss more than it. now fancies when 
he has passed away. He adds to the 
piquancy and picturesqueness of public 
life, and. when the new Democracy lias 
got far on its road, he will probably grow 
tamer and more dignified, settling into a 
permanent and comfortable place. At 
present lie is proud to he called atheist, 
which dread word carries with it his con- 
demnation in every orthodox household 
in London. Democrat, Republican, 
energetic advocate of temperance, he is 
never happy if not in opposition. When 
the police forbade him to speak within 
tin" limits of Devonport he made his 
address from a boat on the waters of the 
Tamar which was three feet from Dev- 
onport shore, hut outside its jurisdic- 
tion : when the mechanics of London 
had built a hall on a lot of land which 



was suddenly claimed by the landlord 
and adjudged to him by the courts, and 
when this greedy landlord claimed, ac- 
cording to law, the building also, Brad- 
laugh came up with a hundred men who 
carried the building off piecemeal. 
When Disraeli discovered, in 1868, that 
Bradlaugh's paper, the " National lie- 
former," had never deposited the £800 
of caution money exacted by the law as 
a preventive against blasphemous or 
seditious publications, and when he 
called on Bradlaugh to pay up or cease 
to print, Bradlaugh's only response was 
the insertion, under the heading of the 
journal, of this phrase, "A Paper pub- 
lished in Defiance of the Interdiction of 
the English Government." For this he 
was brought before a jury, hut the case 
was dropped. Gladstone, when he 
came into the ministry, took it up and 
prosecuted it, but it was taken by Brad- 
laugh to the Supreme Courts, and there 
the atheistic orator was victorious on 
every point. 

Bradlaugh is very popular in Paris, 
where he is not quite understood, but is 
supposed to he something very radical 
ami desperate. lie finds a certain sup- 
port among the respectable French Radi- 
cals, for whom his atheism is not so 
shocking as it is to the English Liberals. 
The voters of Northampton, who have 
sent him three times to the House of 
Commons, believe in and admire him. 
His colleague, tin- witty and wealthy Mr. 
Labouchere, part owner of the " Daily 
News" and sole proprietor of the 
sprightly " Truth," never loses an 
opportunity in the House of Commons 
to give Bradlaugh a lift, and does it 
with much grace and courtesy. 

To bring out the volcanic force which 
lies at the bottom of Bradlaugh's tem- 
perament, he must he deeply moved by 
an attack, not upon himself, hut upon 



Eunorm m storm and calm. 



603 



some doctrine dear to him, or some one street, for when he wants a mighty cou- 

wlio enunciates theories which he holds gregation he goes to the grassy slopes of 

sacred, lie is the least self-conscious Hyde Park, or stands amid the sculpt- 

of men. If he alludes to himself it is ured lions which lie around the Nelson 

only as the representative of others. I Memorial. 

once heard him in an inspired burst of Mr. Bradlaugh is no longer looked 

oratory, which, like many others, passed upon by the Conservatives, since the ad- 

awav without record, but it was enough vent of Mr. Chamberlain, as the chief of 






,» 




LOUD MAYOR'S DAY. —SAILORS IN PROCESSION. 



to give any speaker lasting fame. He 
was describing the persistence of his 
own purpose, and his faith in the ulti- 
mate results towards which he strove. 
Few men in England, few in Europe, 
could have spoken better than he did 
then ; none could have carried in their 
words greater weight of conviction. He 
does not need a larger room than the 
diminutive "Hall of .Science," in John 



terrors. His star has perhaps paled a 
little before the lustre of the career of 
this slight, boyish-looking man, who, 
from the platform in Birmingham as 
from his place in Parliament, states the 
most revolutionary propositions in quiet 
and dignified language, adding to them 
that authority which comes from his 
position as a member of the Cabinet, 
" He wore," says Mr. Lacey, in his re- 



604 EUROPE IN STURM AXD CALM. 

cently published diary of the two Par- or a distinguished merchant, is found 

liaments, "on the occasion of his first nest on the paper, and presents his 

appearance, in 1*77, in the House, not views. Then the resolution is "put," 

spectacles, with tin or brass rims, as and it is at this point that the unex- 

Felix Holt would inevitably have done pected speeches happen in and add to 

had his sight been impaired, but an eye- the interest. In the University meetings 

pllass — positively an eye-glass." Mr. in the spring ; at the great assemblies in 

Lacey goes on to inform us that the St. James's Hall, in London, St. George's 

Conservatives had a preconceived notion Hall, in Liverpool, and that famous 

of Mr. Chamberlain's appearance and building where John Bright has for so 

manner: that they had "evolved some many years held forth before his always 

fancy picture." and that they were admiring constituents, in Birmingham, 

greatly surprised " at seeing the genial the audiences are so similar to our own 

member for Birmingham in a coat, and that an American feels at home a ig 

even a waistcoat, and on hearing him them. 

speak very good English in a quiet, nn- At the hospitable board of the Lord 
demonstrative manner." A Radical with Mayor of London, and in the numerous 
an eye-glass and a bank account appeared corporation buildings in the "city," 
to the Conservative mind an anomaly, so many great speeches are made yearly, 
fixed is the impression that those who The Lord Mayor occupies a lofty posi- 
ask for land-and-revenue reform are tion, and one which costs him dearly to 
greedy and needy Socialists in disguise, keep up. Hut every incumbent of the 
All the Liberals, without exception, are office takes a special pride hi spending 
looked upon somewhat askance by the the £8,000 which the city gives him for 
Conservative people in the country dis- his year, and as much more out of his 
tricts. Mr. Lacey himself tells us that own pocket, while he is lodged at the 
an old lady, reared in an atmosphere Mansion House, in entertaining political, 
of clericalism, on having Gladstone literary, and commercial dignitaries and 
pointed out to her among the celebrities celebrities. He holds the first place 
at the funeral of a distinguished friend, in the city, after the sovereign, and 
whispered, "Oh, how dreadful! I do is the only man in England who can say 
trust he is not coining to create a dis- when he is within his own boundaries 
turbance." that hi' has precedence of tin' Prince 
Public meetings in England are al- of Wales. George IV. disputed this 
ways conducted according to certain privilege, hut it has never been ques- 
well-established and long-practised rules, tioned since his time. The Lord Mayor 
lint are characterized by much the same is annually chosen, by what is called the 
freedom ami energy of expression found Livery, in tin' last days of September in 
in America. There is none of the cast- eaeli year, and rules a twelvemonth, 
iron formalism which flourishes on the He is ordinarily the senior alderman. 
Continent, and the English plainness of the city proper having twenty-six wards, 
expression flourishes to the fullest ex- each returning an alderman, and sub- 
tent. A meeting always has a resolu- divided into precincts, each of which 
tion laid before it; speeches are then returns a common-council man. The 
made by the mover and the seconder, alter Liverv men who choose the Mayor are 
which a noble lord, or a lit. Rev. bishop, the chief dignitaries of the Trade Com- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



605 



panies, who furnish a voting constitu- 
ency of about ten thousand persons. 
They, with the senior aldermen, choose 
the principal officers of this ancient city 
corporation, the style of which is the 
Mayor, Commonalty, and Citizens of 
London. Next to the Lord Mayor arc 
two sheriffs and a recorder, which latter 



palace, and appears a little mit of place 
in the midst of the intense hustle and 
hurry over the smooth pavements in tin- 
vicinity of Lombard street and the Lank. 
On reception nights, and when grand 
banquets are given, the Egyptian Hall 
is open. This lofty room can accommo- 
date four hundred guests, and the diu- 







& 



DINNER WITH THE LORD MAYOR. 



functionary officiates in the Lord Mayor's 
Court, held at Guildhall. This recorder 
has an unlimited jurisdiction, both legally 
and equitably, for cases within the city 
boundaries. His court is one of the 
curiosities of London, the modes of pro- 
cedure being derived from the ancient 
customs of the city, in large part. The 
Mansion House, the official residence of 
the Lord Mayor, is a rather gloomy 
structure, built in imitation of an Italian 



ners are veritable feasts. The Lord 
Mayor and Lady Mayoress — the Mayor 
in his civic robes, with his gold chain of 
office — personally receive their guests, 
who are then assembled in the ban- 
queting-room in the order of precedence 
so rigidly established in England. Be- 
hind the Lord Mayor is a massive row 
of gold and silver plate, the antique 
treasures of mighty London ; and near 
him stands a bearded functionary with a 



1506 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



stentorian voice, whose duty it is to cry 
the toasts as they are announced. The 
turtle, the Madeira, and the clarets of 
the Mansion House are far-famed, and 

one sees at the table of the great Mayor 
those traditional figures of aldermen 
which he seeks elsewhere in vain. 

The riches of certain of the trading 
guilds are almost fabulous. Their yearly 
incomes from ancient investments, for 
which they have no possible use unless 
for charity, are, it is said, squandered in 
costly banquets, and in the accumulation 
of rich stocks of wines ; so that it is not 
Strange if the aldermen of London have 
fat paunches and rosy cheeks. There 
are no less than eighty-two of these citv 
companies, each one having its hall, and 
all being rated in the order of precedency. 
Guildhall, in King street, Cheapside, 
the town-hall of the city of Loudon, is 
the chief of all the halls, and is rich 
with historic memories. It is in this 
room, where the colossal giants (iu^ and 
Mngog keep watch, where six or seven 
thousand people may he assembled on 
great occasions; ami there, for more 
than three hundred and fifty years, the 
inauguration dinners of the Lord Mayors 
of London have taken place. There 

the Sovereign dines on the Lord Mayor's 
Day which succeeds his or her corona- 
tion. There George IV. met with Alex- 
ander of Russia and Frederick William 
III. of Prussia, at a. great dinner, which 
cost £25,000, and at which, it is said, 
gold and silver plate worth £200,000 
was employed. There have been held 
the successive dinners which have marked 
the progress of the Reform bills since 
1831 ; and when the mighty hall is 
lighted up with the six or seven thousand 
gas-jets, arranged in stars, mottoes, and 
devices, and when at the dinner on 
Lord Mayor's Day. the Mayor and his 
quests are marshalled to the banquet by 



the sound of trumpets, and the twelve 
hundred invited guests sit down to din- 
ner, the spectacle is highly imposing. 
This dinner annually costs £1,500, of 
which the city gives £200, the Lord 
Mayor half, and the two sheriffs the 
other half of the remainder. Mr.Timbs, 
in his •• Curiosities of London," tell us 
that for this colossal feast forty huge 
turtles are slaughtered, anil the serving of 
the dinner requires two hundred servants 
ami eight thousand plate changes. 

The most ancient of the great city 
companies is the mercers, whose char- 
ter was granted in 1393. Next come 
the grocers; then the fish-mongers; 
then the goldsmiths, skinners, and 
bakers, whose charters are earlier, but 
whose rank seems to have been deter- 
mined as less. Then come the saddlers, 
carpenters, weavers, and parish clerks. 
Out of the Mercers' Company have come 
kings, princes, ninety-eight Lord Mayors, 
and the illustrious Whittington and 
Gresham. It is said that the Fish- 
Mongers' Company purchased the land 

near L Ion Bridge, on which stands 

one of its halls, at the enormous rate of 
£630,000 per acre. This company has 
furnished fifty Lord Mayors to Loudon. 
The banqueting-halls, the museums of 
plate anil treasure, the festival and pict- 
ure-rooms of these ancient companies 
give, as nothing else can. an idea of the 
accumulation of wealth and the splendor 
brought together on the dingy banks of 
the Thames. 

The 9th of November, generally 
foggy or muddy and rainy, is Lord 
Mayor's Day in London. Then the 
newly elected functionary proceeds from 
the Mansion House westward, along- 
Fleet street, and the Strand, past tin' 
site of old Temple Bar (which was 
demolished a few years ago), on to 
Westminster, where he takes the oath 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



607 



before the Baron of the Exchequer. In hold are no less than twenty gentlemen, 

recent years the procession has varied The Mansion House is rent free, and the 

much in character, according to the plate and ornaments are worth £30,000 

fancy of the mayor-elect. Sometimes it or £40,000. The Lord Mayor keeps 

is military, allegorical, or historical in three tables, a tine retinue of servants, 

character. But one is sure to see Gog and in the < >1<1 days, like a very monarch, 




THE THAMES FROM THE TOP OF SAINT PAUL'S. — WESTMINSTER PALACE IN THE 

DISTANCE. 



and Magog, and a good fight, before the 
procession has passed by the point from 
which lie views it. The Mayor and Lady 
Mayoress ride in their state coach, 
followed by the sheriffs in their state 
coaches, and by aldermen. 

The city uives the Lord Mayor his 
ci inch, but not his horses. He is ex- 
pected to supply the Lady Mayoress witli 
her carriages and horses. In his house- 



lie kept his own particular fool. He is 
chief butler to the Sovereign at coronation" 
feasts. On state occasions, lie wears a 
massive silk robe, richly embroidered; 
at courts and civic meetings, a violet 
silk robe with fur, and bars of black 
velvet; and when he presides at the 
Criminal Court, or on the bench at the 
Mansion House, a scarlet robe with furs 
and borders of black. As the repre- 



608 



EUROPE I.V STORM AND CALM. 



sentativeof England's commercial power 
and wealth, lie relieves the court of 
much expense and trouble, and allows 
those distinguished aristocrats, who are 
removed by several generations from the 
atmosphere of trade, the privilege of 
not coming in contact with those who are 
Still carving' out their fortunes, or whose 
grandfathers carved them out for them, 
by creating a special court for this latter 
class. 




ARCHBISHOP MANNING PREACHING TEMPERANCE. 



EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



609 



CHAPTER. SIXTY-NINE. 

'The City." — The Daily Pilgrimage to It. — Exact Limits of the City District. — Demolition of Temple 

Bar. — The Griffin. — Fleet Street. — Cha :r's Battle in this Famous Avenue. — The Newspaper 

Region. — The Temple. — The Inns. The Law Students. — St. Paul's and its Neighborhood. — 
The Crypt in St. Paul's. — The Publisher's Haunts. — The Bank. — Lombard Street.— Christ's Hos- 
pital.— The "Times.'' 



FROM eight to ten o'clock on every 
morning of the week, except Sun- 
day, hundreds of trains and omnibuses 
— trains in subterranean avenues, on the 
street level, and on high viaducts, from 
which one may look down upon the attic 
windows of acres of houses — carry the 
commercial and professional classes of 
London into what is called "The City." 
Within this tract is concentrated three- 
fourths of the intellectual and financial 
activity of the largest city in the world. 
From ten o'clock to four the vast avenues 
are crowded with hurrying, anxious folk, 
primly dressed, polite and deferential 
even in their haste, knowing the value 
of a minute and exacting its full worth, 
settling transactions which involve thou- 
sands, and sometimes millions, in inter- 
views that hist barely half an hour, and 
exercising influence over dozens of small 
countries scattered up and down the 
mighty seas. The city man is aware 
of his own importance in the world's 
economy, and is gifted with becoming 
dignity. He is hard to get at in the 
first instance, — seems inclined rather to 
repel than demand business, as befits 
one who may take his choice of the best 
enterprises set on foot ; but, once having 
given his attention, he decides and acts 
with the greatest swiftness. 

The " City." so called, is that part of 
London which, in the old days, was 
within the walls, together with what was 



known as " The Liberties," which im- 
mediately surrounded them. "The Lib- 
erties," says Mr. Timbs in his " Curi- 
osities of London," " are encompassed 
by the line of separation, the boundary 
between them and the county of Middle- 
sex, and marked by the Bars, which 
formerly consisted of posts and chains, 
but are now denoted by lofty stone obe- 
lisks, bearing the city arms, which may 
be seen, eastward, in White Chapel, the 
Minories and Bishopsgate street ; north- 
ward, in Caswell street, at the end of 
Fair alley, and in St. John's street, and 
westward, at Middle row, Holborn ; 
while at the west end of Fleet street, the 
boundary is the stone gate-way called 
Temple Bar." This old stone gate-wav is 
gone now, and, had it remained, it would 
have seemed insignificant enough under 
the shadow of the somewhat gloomy 
and ill-arranged palace where London 
has finally placed the numerous tribunals 
which were formerly crowded into small 
and old-fashioned rooms in the neigh- 
borhood of Westminster. Near where 
Temple Bar stood, at the entrance into 
Fleet street from the Strand, is a me- 
morial monument with a griffin sprawl- 
ing on its top, and with bas-reliefs, which 
the populace, urged by some curious 
feeling difficult to explain, took delight 
in breaking shortly after they were placed 
in position. 

Fleet street, with its thousand ancient 



610 



V A XD CALM. 



souvenir- - ric exhibition and pos- 

- ssious, aud with its associations with 
Ismith and Johns - I 

lurnalism in London. 
s of all tlie great 
newspapers, excepl ■ i s." "The 
Daily Telegraph "' and •• The Daily 
News" have palatial abodes: and I 
writers of the articles which move I 
thought <>f England meet to - 
polities aud literature in dusty, vener: 
taverns, whose owners arc proud of I 
memories which their I ses evoke, aud 
turn them to excellent account. In 
Wine-office court, just off Fleet street. 
is the •• Old Cheshire Cheese." where the 
favored visitor is allowed to sit in a chair 
from which Dr. Johnson ti: forth 

- magniloquent sentences ; and close by 
is the house where Goldsmith lived in 

. when John- si visited him. 

Johnson's house, in * rt named 

after him. from which he used to march 

- s1 tely promenadi - 
Fleet street, i- se al hand. The 

house in Bolt court, where he died in 
1774. was burned more than half a 
century : _ I aucer and Milton 1 
lived at times in Fli - : and the: 

a pretty story told of Chaucer's once 
having soundly thrashed a Franciscan 
friar in t avenue, when he 

was a student of the Inner Temple, and 
being fined two shillings for the offence. 
The taverns and coffee-houses are usually 
to be found in dark little passages or 
alley- s. istinctively looks for 

5 of past ages, and is snrpi - 
the quaint rooms crowded with 
gentlemen sprucely dressed in the I:; - st 

- lion of tlu We-: End. I street 
is almost the only portion of the city in 
which there is a considerable movement 
at night. During the - -- s of Parlia- 
ment, or in exciting war time?. pr< 
sions - as antlv moving 



w stminster and the newspaper 
offices : but by oui . in the morn- 

ing nothing is heard save the beating 
the great presses, deep down in the sub- 
cellars, under the muddy streets. Fleet 
s often called the cradle of steam- 
printing. There Beasley. Woodfall. and 
Taylor, by their joint exertions, finally 

eeded in a ylindrical prinl 

1 s was mediately adopted by 
■• Times." in 1814. 

At the upper end of Fli t si ; there 
-way to the Inner Temple: and 
no rami ile in London is more interes 
than that through the tortuous lanes and 
little -' -. and between the houses in 
which the lawyers and law students 
the metropolis reside. Out of Fleet 
street leads Chancery lane, tilled with 
the offices of barristers and legal print- 
On the st s of this street is 
Lincoln's Inn. In these old court- 
chambers, which were mainly built in 
the time of James I., was the ancient 
hall in which the Commons of the 
ty used to meet for their masks and 
Christmas festivities, when the bench - 
laid aside their dignity and the students 
danced before their judges. The new 
hall aud library. — noble buildings of 
the Tudor style. — the council-room, are 
all most interesting, and one cannot but 
wonder that so serene and tranquil a 
retreat, like that of s >ld university, 

has been preserved in the very heart of 
one of the busiesl cities 

new hall in Lincoln's Inn has a 
vaulted kitchen forty-rive feet square 
and twenty-five feet high. Attached to 
it aud adjoining are cellars capabh 

taining one hundred pipes of wine: 
whence we may conclude that good 

r reigns in Lincoln's Inn. Farther 
away, on the north side of Holborn, is 

r's Inn, also a noted rendezvous of 
the legal fraternity, possessing an oval 



EVROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



fill 



hall, built throe hundred years ago, with the successful students. Nevertheless, 



persons may still be called to the bar re- 
gardlessof the lectures and examinations ; 
but, in all eases, keeping Commons by 
dining in the hall is absolutely necessary. 
These dinners in the various halls are 



a great oaken roof divided into seven 
bays by Gothic arched ribs. All the in- 
mates of these four inns of court, — the 
two Temples, Lincoln's Inn, and Gray's 
Inn — have the exclusive power of prac- 
tising as advocate or council 
in superior courts. The stu- 
dent who wishes to gain ad- |S''';-,^8£ 
mittance to any of these has 
a sharp fight for the privilege : 
but once admitted lie is en- 
titled to the use of the libra- 
ries, •• to a scat in the church 
orchapel, and tohave his name 
set down for Chambers." 
" He is then required to keep 
Commons by dining in the 
hall twelve terms (four terms 
occurring each year) ,on com- 
mencing which he must de- 
posit with the treasurer £100, 
to be retained with interest, 
until he is colled. Butresident 
members of the universities 
are exempt from this deposit. 
The student must also sign a 
bond, with sureties, for the 
payment of his Commons and 
term fees. In all the inns 
no person can lie called unless 
he is above twenty-one years 
of age, and three years' stand- 
ing as a student. A Council 
of Legal Education has been 
established by the four inns 
of court, to superintend the 
subject of the education of 
students for the bar. and. 

by order of this council, law lectures very curious. At five or half-past five 
are given by learned professors at the o'clock in the afternoon the barristers 
four inns, all of which any student and students assemble in their gowns, 
of any of the inns may attend. The and the benchers proceed in procession 
examinations also take place, and to the dais. The steward then strikes 
scholarships. certificates, and other the table three times, grace is said by 
marks of approbation are the rewards of the treasurer or senior bencher present, 




AT THE PUNCH AND JUDY SHOW. 



612 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

and the dinner begins. Each table is Napoleon 1. at the Invalides in Paris, 
arranged by messes, and to each mess is In the crypt of St. Paul's stands the 
allowed a bottle of port wine. The state ear on which the body of Welling- 
dinner is usually simple, but there are ton was conveyed ti> the cathedral at 
many ancient formularies and ceremo- his funeral. At the Chapter House of 
nies. some of which provoke a smile this church, every time a new political 
to-day, like that observed in the Inner party assembles, there is a kind of new 
Temple on the 29th of May. when each clerical parliament, composed of a dean, 
member drinks to the happy restoration four canons, twelve minor canons, six 
of Charles II. in a golden cup of sack, lay figures, and twelve choirists. Here 
At Cray's Inn they occasionally toast the Lord Mayor's chaplain preaches his 
the memory of Queen Elizabeth. Now annual state sermon, and on the anni- 
aud then the younger students from versary of the great fire, 1666. In May, 
these vast ranees of buildings called during the anniversary festivals, noble 
••Courts" hold high wassail in the concerts are given in tin 1 church, and 
public houses and queer old taverns on the animal gathering of the charity chil- 
Fleet street, and show that Englishmen dren, eight or ten thousand in number, 
of to-day drink as deeply as Englishmen held in St. Paul's in June, is one of the 
of Dr. Johnson's time. prettiest and most pleasing of English 
The neighborhood of St. Paul's is one public assemblies. Thither go the 
of the most interesting quarters of the judges and law-officers, in long proces- 
city. St. Paul's is the Pantheon of sion. for blessing on their labors before 
England's naval and military heroes, the beginning of the annual sessions, 
and the burial-place of many of her Back among numerous streets and mi- 
greatest painters. In the crypt lies Sir romantic places in the neighborhood of 
Christopher Wren, who built the great St. Paul's are the publishers. One of 
church, and whose handiwork is visible the most famous streets in which the 
everywhere in the city; Sir Joshua purveyors" of literature abound is Pater- 
Reynolds, immortalized by Flaxman's noster Row, so called from the sellers of 
statue as much as by his own work; rosaries and the text-writers who lived 
Parry, Cpie. Lawrence, and Van Dyck ; there in the time of Henry IV. From 
Turner, West, and Milton Archer Shee ; Paternoster Row and its immediate vicin- 
inthe middle of the crypt, under an altar itygo outmost of the great works which 
tomb, are the remains of the great Nelson, have done so much during the Victorian 
In this crypt, for more than two years, period to ennoble English literature, 
lav the body of the Duke of Welling- The London publishers do not indulge, 
ton, the cofiin placed upon the top of the like those in Paris, in costly and luxuri- 
sarcophagus which covered that of Nel- ous offices, with tapestries and pictures 
son ; but now the old Duke reposes in a and bric-dr-brnc. They do their work in 
porphyry tomb, sculptured out of a business hours, in plain and simply fur- 
single block, weighing more thanseventy nished rooms, and reserve their comfort 
tons, and placed upon a massive base- and luxury for the suburban homes, to 
ment of Aberdeen granite, at each corner which they hasten as soon as four o'clock 
of which is sculptured the head of a sounds from the church-towers of the 
guardian lion. This severely noble city. The man who at one o'clock 
tomb is far more impressive than that of may be found lunching in a modest little 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



613 



rookery in some hack alley, in a dark, 
open stall, where' there is no cloth upon 
the table and where napkins are un- 
known, sits down to dinner at seven 
o'clock in his noble country-house, look- 
ing out upon a splendid lawn, and chics 
his evening work in a costly library. 
Loudon is their rendezvous, and nothing 
else. A solicitor will receive you in a 
hack office simple as that of a Hebrew 



labor; black care goes home with them, 
and lurks beside (lie turtle-soup and I he 
buttle of old port on their dinner-table. 
In front of the Mansion House, and 
pasl the Royal Exchange, and down 
Threadneedle street,, in the neighbor- 

1 1 of the First Bank of England, 

whose structures cover mure than four 
acres, there is a continual rush of teams, 
carriages, drays, omnibuses, and other 




SATURDAY NIGHT IX WORKMAN'S QUARTER. 



retail dealer just beginning business ; 
but, if he invites you to bring your 
papers to his house, you will find he 
lives like a merchant prince. Every city 
man sacrifices about two hours daily in 
going to and from his business. When 
the trains leave the city in the afternoon 
they are crowded with men who are 
studying brief's, prospectuses, and memo- 
randa, which they extract from little 
black bags, placed carefully beside them. 
One feels that their going into the city 
has been but the beginning of their dav's 



vehicles of almost every description, 
from early morning until after business 
hours ; and through this moving mass 
hundreds of thousands of pedestrians 
pick their way with the deftness born of 
long practice. Near by is Lombard 
street, so called from the old •• Longo- 
bardi," the rich bankers who settled in 
that district of London and grouped their 
countrymen around them before the 
time of Edward II. There also were 
the goldsmiths, who lent money on plate 
and jewels, and from the badge of the 



6 1 4 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Lombards, or Longobardi, the three 
golden pills of the Medici family, we get 
inn- modern pawnbroker's sign. "The 
days bave long passed when," as we 
are told in the " Life and Times of Sir 
Thomas Gresham," "all sorts of gold 
and silver vessels were exposed to sale, 
as well as ancient and modern coins, in 
such quantities as must surprise a man 
the first time he sees and considers 
them." The wealth of the men of Lom- 
bard street does not to-day consist of 
golden chains, like that of Gresham, as 
was found to he the ease after bis death. 
But gold and silver laccmen still had 
their places of business in the street at 
the beginning of this century. For 
more than live and a half centuries this 
celebrated avenue has been devoted to 
finance ; and in the long and narrow 
streets, with their gloomy courts which 
radiate from it, are the business offices of 
some of the most powerful commercial 
houses in tiie world. The first idea of 
the Loudon Exchange came from Sir 
Richard Gresham, who proposed to 
( 'romwell " to make a place for merchants 
to repair unto in Lombert Streete." 
Underneath the dust of this avenue are 
the ruins of Roman houses, and many 
Roman remains have been found. They 
are the last lot unearthed, and are sup- 
posed to indicate that they belonged to 
the period when London was burned by 
Boadicea. The value of the ground in 
this neighborhood may lie adjudged by 
Hie following instance, which Mr. Timbs 
gives us in his valuable book on London : 
A piece of ground at the corner of 
Lombard street, formerly the site of 
Spooner & Co.'s banking house, was let to 
the Agra & Masterman's Bank, for nine 
years, at £66,000 per year. Owing to a 
change in the management of that bank, 
it was next sold to the City Offices Bank, 
at a premium of £70,000 sterling. Later 



on. a building was erected upon it, at a 
cost of nearly £70,000, the gross rental 
of which is estimated at £22,000, — the 
London anil Canada Bank paying £12,- 
()()() for the ground floor and basement. 
It is not easy to get building sites in the 
centre of the banking world. The Mer- 
cantile and Exchange Bank purchased 
premises in Lombard street for £20,000. 
The directors of the bank then let the 
first floor of the bouse to the Asiatic 
Banking Corporation for £1,000 per 
year. The amalgamation of the London 
Bank of Scotland with the Mercantile 
and Exchange Bank having made it 
necessary to value the premises in Lom- 
bard street, the directors of the Bank of 
Scotland paid £10,000 to the share- 
holders in the Mercantile and Exchange 
Bank as their proportion of the increased 
value of the premises, which are now 
estimated as worth £40,000. The value 
was thus doubled within a year. 

Every week-day, and at all bonis of 
the day, — even later hours than those 
kept by the regular city man, — hosts of 
able people from all corners of the earth 
Hock into the city, bearing in their busy, 
and often aching, brains, schemes which 
they hope to float in the inspiring atmos- 
phere of this commercial centre, and by 
which they hope to enrich themselves. 
Among these waiting and hoping folk 
the Americans are very prominent. 
They are of all types: the breezy, fresh, 
and enthusiastic Western man, who, 
despite the English assertion that gush 
and a confidential air will kill any en- 
terprise offered in the city, behaves 
in unconventional London in the same 
boisterous and buoyant way that he 
would at home; the sharp, quiet-man- 
nered financier, who has come determined 
to measure capacities with the magnates 
of Europe's financial head-quarters; the 
wild-cat speculators, who find persons 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



615 



resembling them in the London market, 
and who slowly lay their plans for gull- 
ing the public; and, finally, the large- 
brained but timid inventors, — the men 
with every kind of novelty from per- 
petual motion to a new barbed-wire 
fence, — all learning by bitter experience 
how hard it is to turn the current of 
suspicious capital into their own particu- 
lar channels. The Odysseys of these 
speculative-minded men, amid the rocks 
and waves of Loudon, are often attended 
with pathos, and sometimes terminate in 
tragedy- " Hope deferred maketh the 
heart sick," and as there are at all times 
from six to seven thousand important 
schemes waiting attention, it is not odd 
that the many thousands of less impor- 
tant enterprises are swept aside, forgot- 
ten, or readily dismissed. It is precisely 
the uncertainty, the delightful suspense, 
the dreamy anticipation of success, which 
tempts so many foreign investors to stay 
on and on in London until their credit, 
their courage, and often their health, have 
departed. They arrive fresh with vigor, 
and will tell yon they are well aware of 
all the obstacles, have profited by the 
experience of others, and have come to 
stay. And they do stay, moving from 
the huge and glittering hotels, in which 
they at first installed themselves, into 
the more modest quiet of the West End 
square ; then into cheaper lodgings ; 
again to second-rate taverns ; finally, 
into the country, but clinging on with 
perhaps no other capital than a good 
hat and umbrella and their ever-seduc- 
tive address, determined against fate. 
Out of this throng of unsuccessful people 
sometimes leaps to the very height of 
financial victory a man who had seemed 
marked for disaster. Some lucky chance 
has brought him to the front, and all the 
others, seeing the good turn fortune has 
done him, struggle on, using an energy 



and patience which, in more legitimate 
pursuits at home, would have made them 
solid fortunes. 

The Royal Exchange is imposing, ami 
is filled with memorials of Sir Thomas 
Gresham, who carried out the project 
which his father had recommended to 
Cromwell, and hail his famous crest, a 
grasshopper, placed over the first ex- 
change in Lombard street. Then the 
" Burse," as it was called, was placed 
in Cornhill, whither, in 1570, came to 
the dedication, "'midst the ringing of 
bells in every part of the city, the 
Queen's majesty, attended witli the 
nobility, from her house in the Strand, 
called Somerset House, and entered the 
city by Temple Bar, through Fleet 
street, Cheap, and so by the north side 
and the Burse, through Threadneedle 
street, to Thomas (iresham's house, in 
Bishopsgate street, where she dined." 
Sir Thomas Gresham died before he 
had half completed his plan for enrich- 
ing the Exchange with statues. This 
building was destroyed in the great lire 
in London, and, oddly enough, the 
founder's statue was the only one which 
did not fall into the flames. The sec- 
ond Exchange was opened at the close 
of the seventeenth century, being built 
by the city and the Mercers' Company. 
It was a noble structure, well studded 
with statues of kings. But this in its 
turn was burned in 1838, and as the fire 
reached the clock-tower at midnight the 
bells were heard chiming the familiar 
air. "There is nae luck about the 
house." The present Exchange, dedi- 
cated by Queen Victoria, in 1844, is 
renowned for its portico, adorned with 
Westmacott's sculpture. On this por- 
tico is the inscription: "The earth is 
the Lord's and the fulness thereof." 
Mr. Henry George, while addressing an 
open-air meeting recently in front of 



016 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

the Mansion House, pointed to this raents of the West End, the citv restau- 

inscription on the Royal Exchange and rateur lias counted his cash and closed 

said if should read :" The earth is the for the night. The City is the besl 

landlord's, and the fulness thereof." paved, the cleanliest kept part of the 

In this building are Lloyd's subscrip- metropolis, ami contains many of the 

tion-rooms, where meet the noted mer- most brilliant shops in London. In 

chants, ship-owners, underwriters, in- Cheapside, in the Poultry, in the neigh- 

surance, stock', and exchange brokers boil 1 of the General Post-office, in 

of London. Lloyd was an old coffee- King William and in Cannon streets, 
house keeper, from whose establish- a stranger may shop to great ail- 
ment at the corner of Abchurch lane, vantage. In Cannon street a frag- 
Lombard street, Steele used to indite ment, of the London Stone, supposed to 
his epistles to the " Tatler." be the great central mile-stone from 
The Bank of England looks like a which the British high roads radiated. 
great fortress, and it is well protected and to have been placed in its present 
externally from attack. At night there location more than a thousand yearsago, 
is a military force on duty, and clerks is still to be seen. It is mentioned as a 
are also detailed to keep a night-watch, landmark in a list of rents belonging to 
There is little danger, however, that Christ's Church in Canterbury, in the 
the masses, whether excited by Mr. time of King Athelstan, wdio reigned in 
Henry George or any other agitator, will the tenth century. 

ever attempt an assault upon the ven- One of the noblest charities in the 
erable and exalted financial institution, city of London is Christ's Hospital, 
It is not far from this centre of com- which was due to the exertions of the 
mercial London to the water-side, and good citizens to provide for a large 
the great Custom-house, with its majestic homeless population. Henry VIII. as- 
front, live hundred feet long, with a sisted this work by large grants, and 
broad esplanade between it and the young King Edward VI. gave the lios- 
river, and to the long avenues, literally pital its name. The hospital was not 
crammed with heavy drays, beating to originally, as it is to-day, a school ; but 
and fro every conceivable sort of mer- at all times its directors rescued young 
chandise from the ships which crowd the children from the streets to shelter, feed, 
docks. Here anil there throughout the and clothe them. For more than three 
city rises a tine building devoted entirely hundred years Christ's Hospital has 
to the providing of refreshment. The been a .school, and is proud of its old 
city restaurant-keepers acquire fortunes traditions and its ancient uniform, 
in a very short lime. Their custom is Many a fashionable mother presents with 
certain. Yet they court it by bestowing pride her son attired in the long blue 
upon their customers every possible com- coat and yellow stockings, and wearing 
fort and luxury. From ten o'clock until the livery girdle which all the children 
four these great restaurants and the received at Christ's Hospital must wear. 
numerous clubs scattered throughout the They go bareheaded in all times and 

city quarter are overflowing with hun- seasons; and one of these boys his 

gry people ; but after sunset few people vacation visit to the Continent, is as 

linger, and by the time the lamps ale lit much followed and stared at as a lion 

in the gorgeous gastronomic establish- or an elephant would be. There are 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



in- 



tuit a few arches and a bit of a cloister 
of the old building remaining. Many 
of the oldest buildings have been re- 
stored. From Newgate street the pub- 
lie can look in upon the great hall, and, 
on any Friday, may get admittance to 
seethe children having their supper in 
this hall, the eight or nine hundred boys, 
in quaint costumes, going carefully over 
the various ceremonies which have come 
down to them from the sixteenth century. 
The Charter House, in Aldersgate street, 
is another noble charity, founded by a 
London merchant, where eighty pension- 
ers live together in collegiate style, and 
where forty poor boys are annually re- 
ceived for free education. This Charter 
House, which has given to the world .Sir 
William Blackstone, Addison, Richard 
Steele, John Wesley, George Grote, and 
Bishop Thirlwall, has an income of 
£29,000 sterling annually. Yet another 
college is that named after Sir Thomas 
Gresham, where lectures are annually 
delivered on different sciences, free of 
any charge to the public. 

Christ's Hospital is filled with memories 
of Coleridge, Charles Lamb, and Leigh 
Hunt, all of whom are blue-coat boys. 
It has many ancient privileges, such as 
that of addressing the Sovereign on the 
occasion of his or her coming into the 
City to partake of the hospitalities of 
the corporation. Presentations to this 
school are greatly coveted. The insti- 
tution has five hundred governors, headed 
by the royal family, and many of tins!' 
have the privilege of presenting pnpils. 

Not far from Blackfriar's Bridge and 
looming up a conspicuous monument as 
the traveller from west to east enters 
the domains of the City by way of the 
embankment, is the office of " The 
Times." which is now in the hundredth 
year of its existence, and which was 
never more brilliant and prosperous thau 



at present. "The Times" is the e| it- 
ome of English achievement, day by 
day, and has the utter hick of self-con- 
sciousness and the quiet dignity which 
are so noticeable in an Englishman ; and 
it also has the abundant confidence and 
the utter inability to look at any subject 
from other than an English point of 
view. In its huge red brick building 
•• The Times" sits enthroned a positive 
authority, against which many cavil. Iml 
none dare rebel. The present office 
stands upon the sight of the old Mon- 
astery of Blackfriars, in Printing House 
Square. Mr. W. Fraser Rae, a noted 
English publicist, has recently given to 
the world a brilliant monogram on the 
centenary of " The Times," in which hi' 
traces through a hundred years the 
course of the great paper. Perhaps no 
incident in the history of this journal 
is more striking than its exposure of a 
vast conspiracy that had been Conned 
for swindling foreign bankers out of 
£1,000, 000 sterling. '-The Times" was 
quite successful in the unearthing of this 
fraud, and its services to commerce arc 
commemorated by a tablet in the Royal 
Exchange. There have been three gen- 
erations of Walters, proprietors and 
conductors of "The Times," which is a 
magnificent property. In the printing 
of this journal, which sometimes com- 
prises sixteen large and well-printed 
pages, a perfected press, invented by 
the third Walter, is used. The main 
features of this are simplicity and com- 
pactness, combined with enormous speed 
in working. A large reel, covered with a 
canvas roll of paper, revolves at the 
one end; at the other end the printed 
sheets issue, folded and printed ready 
for the publisher, at the rate of fifteen 
thousand copies per hour. The paper 
on the reel is four miles long. In le^> 
than half an hour these four miles of 



618 



Europe ix srm:.\i ami calm. 



paper are converted into newspapers, the civilized or partly civilized world, 

"Every night," says Mr. Rae, " when constitute one of the most wonderful 

the Walter presses are running in 'The intellectual achievements of modern 

Times' office, a quantity of paper weigh- times. No matter how tremendous the 

ing ten tons, and representing a roll one expense and effort attendant upon the 

hundred and sixty miles long, is thus (jotting of telegraphic news, "The 

transformed into newspapers." The Times" never blusters about these 




SALVATION ARMY. 



editor of " The Times " is no longer a 
one-man power, striking terror because 
of his very mystery. Much of the work 
of decision is done in council ; but there 
is still an enormous amount of detail, 
which falls upon the shoulders of the 
chief; and it is no secret that Mr. 
Chenery, the late editor, who has been 
succeeded by the able Mr. Buckle, died 
of overwork. The telegraphic pages of 
"The Times," embodying as they fre- 
quently do on a Monday morning, 
lengthy dispatches from every part of 



things, but prints, in its bright, clear 
type, on its immaculate paper, the news 
of the world. 

There are always "causes'" to take 
up much of the attention of the papers of 
the ureal city, and among the latest is 
the movement for perpetual religious 
excitement known as the " Salvation 
Army." The military nomenclature of 
its machinery masks a worthy scheme 
for reaching a class that is not touched 
by the churches. It is not wisely man- 
aged, but it does much good. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



619 



CHAPTER SEVENTY. 



The Smoke ami Dirt of London. — Temperature. — Poor People and Dirty People. — The London 
Season. — What it Is, and What it Means. — The Races. — The Derhy. — Going Down to 
Epsom. — The Return. — Goodwood. — Ascot. — The Royal Academy. — John Millais. — Sir 
Frederick Leighton. — Music and Musicians. 



AT six o'clock on a June morning 
the stranger who takes a walk 
through London can scarcely realize that 
it is the same city, in the same country, 
which he visited on four o'clock of a 
November afternoon. Before the mil- 
lions of fires are lighted, and the thick, 
black smoke begins to pour out from the 
chimneys, the soft gray of the skies, and 
the grayish-brown of the noble lines of 
buildings, walls, and monuments, and 
the great houses and bouquets of trees 
and evergreen foliage, harmonize per- 
fectly. In this tranquil morning hour 
London would be, if its streets were 
clean, almost as beautiful as Paris. But 
the smoke, meeting the mist, hovers in 
the street, as soon as the thousands of 
founderies, breweries, manufactories of 
all sorts, and the domestic hearths have 
lighted their fires ; and from nine o'clock 
in the morning until late at night Lon- 
don has a climate peculiar to itself. 
"The temperature of the air in the 
metropolis," says Mr. Timbs, " is raised 
by the artificial sources of heat existing 
in no less than two degrees, on the aver- 
age mean, above that in its immediate 
vicinity." All the artificial sources of 
heat, with the exception of the domestic 
fires, continue in full operation through- 
out the summer. 

It would seem as if the excess of the 
London temperature is still greater in 
June than in January, but the fact is 
otherwise. The excess of the city tem- 



perature is greater in winter, and at 
that period seems to belong entirely to 
the nights, which average considerably 
warmer than in the country, while the 
heat of the days, owing, without doubt, 
to the interception of the solar rays by 
the constant fall of smoke, falls, on a 
mean, about one-third of a degree short 
of that in the open plains. "There are 
hundreds of places in London," says 
Mr. Timbs, " into which the wind never 
finds admission ; and even on the wider 
streets there are many through which a 
free current is rarely blown. It is only 
in the night, when combustion, in some 
measure, ceases, and the whole surface 
of the earth is cooled, that the oases 
are gradually removed and the whole 
atmosphere of the city is brought into 
an equality." 

If London could dispense with the 
burning of coal it would be transformed, 
in less than a month, from one of the 
smokiest and dirtiest cities in the world 
into one of the most picturesque and 
beautiful. The mists and fogs which 
visit the metropolis would lend an addi- 
tional picturesqueness to the old and 
mysterious city, but they are mixed with 
sulphurous fumes, which are very un- 
healthy, for many medical authorities 
assert a constant lowering of the physi- 
cal type in London, and question whether 
the London population could be per- 
petuated without a perpetual influx of 
fresh blood from outside England and 



G20 



EUROTE IX STORM AND CALM. 



front other countries. The smoke and clever dramatist and journalist, Mi 
the coal-dust, the sulphate of ammonia, George Sims, electrified benevolent Lon- 
produeed in the atmosphere by the burn- don when he showed, in a well-written 
ing of enormous quantities of coal, and pamphlet, how the poor of London live ; 
the sulphurous acid, are at first intensely how they are crowded in dens such as 
disagreeable to the stranger, [fa window exist in nocontinental city. The instinct 
be leftslightly open, books, writing-paper, of decency and cleanliness seems to be 
line linens, and silks are found soiled banished from the souls of these people, 
and .smirched with the black particles who live in an atmosphere of unsavory 
which hover in to do their unpleasant odors, and whose methods of thought are 
work; and a wristband, immaculate at so muddled by constant absorption of 
nine o'clock, must be changed at noon, beer and spirits thai they do not realize 
One soon discovers why it is that the their own degradation. In addition to 
Londoner is perpet- the very poor there is an adventurous 
ually washing his class, several hundred thousand strong, 
hands, and that toi- which passes a wretched existence of 
let-rooms are to be expedients and make-shifts, living in 

almost bare, comfortless lodg- 
ings, knowing no warmth or 
^. light save that of the public 
house or the theatre, or 




Till-: QUEEN'S CARRIAGE 



found in every crowded thoroughfare. 
From the difficulty of keeping clean in 
London town probably arises the fashion 
prevalent, among the upper classes of 

speaking of the | r as dirty people. In 

no other place in the world is a smart, 
even an elegant, exterior so important 
as in London. The papers record with 
surprise the appearance of a well-dressed 
man in the dock of a police or criminal 
court. To be ill-dressed is almost a 
crime. 

The poor people in London are indeed 
dirty people, and they have few facilities 
for the promotion of cleanliness. That 



that of the too rare sunlight during the 
short summer. 

London has its fashionable season, its 
period of social and intellectual, as well as 
chief commercial, activity, in the months 
of March, April, May, dune, duly, and 
August. The •• season " proper may 
lie said to begin after Easter, and to 
close punctually with the rising of Par- 
liament, on the ll'th of August,. In 
February and March publishers are busy 

with new 1 ks, the painters are frantic 

with preparations for annual exhibitions. 
horse-racing begins, the university crews 
are briskly at work on the river, finish- 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



621 



ing with their animal struggle. But house-keeper is nervous with ambition to 

"town," as all Englishmen call it, is make money ; and in the great metropo- 

not at the height of its gayety until the lis, with four and a half millions of 

breezy and pleasant days of May. people, a stranger who arrives on a sum- 



8V1 



.., 



fc ; ' 










THE QUEEN CONFERRING THE ORDER OF KNIGHTHOOD. 



Then the rich families come in from mer evening has an excellent chance of 

their country retreats. The fashionable sleeping in the streets, if he has not 

hotels treble their rates. The gentle- engaged his rooms several days before- 

men who pay ten guineas for their suite hand. 

of moms during the spring arc asked to It is not the foreigners, but the Eng- 

pay thirty after the first of May or to lish of the upper and middle classes, 

retire. Every landlord and lodging- who spend the money during the season. 



622 



EUROPE IN STORM AX/> CALM. 



The British hotel-keeper professes some 
slight disdain for American patronage, 
because the American does not drink 
wine. A country squire, :i prosperous 
clergyman, with his family, or a rich 
manufacturer, with his half-dozen grown- 
up daughters, one or two smart sons, 
and his hustling wife, will spend as much 
money at dinner at a London hotel as an 
American party will dispense in a day. 
The well-to-do country people enjoy 
their London season and lavish money 
upon it. If they economize it is in the 
discreet privacy of their rural home. 
One cannot pass through the London 
season without heavy expense. The 
ancient and rather shabby lodging- 
houses in the historic streets on the 
Strand, and in the great squares at the 
West End, arc almost as expensive as 
the mammoth modern hotel. The thea- 
tre, the opera, and concert are all dear in 
comparison with ordinary prices in Amer- 
ica. A seat at a fashionable theatre, 
where the play begins : ,t a quarter before 
nine o'clock and closes promptly at 
eleven, costs half a sovereign, or $2.50. 
Flowers, fruit, and, in short, everything 
which partakes of the nature of a 
luxury, are dear, even at a central mar- 
ket like Covent Garden. But England 
is filled with people who are rich and 
whose fathers were rich before them, 
and who scarcely appreciate the value of 
money. The luxurious and handsome 
hotels in London, at the termini of the 
great railways, profess to make moderate 
charges; but to live in them as one lives in 
an American hotel one must pay nearly 
double the American charges. London 
plucks the stranger within her uales, 
whether he comes from outside England 
or from foreign parts; but the resident 
finds it a cheap, healthy, and agreeable 
place to live in. He learns not to think 
of the weather at all. In-door life is 



comfortable and entertaining, and when 
the Englishman goes out of doors, it is 
for vigorous exercise on horseback, on 
tin' river, in the cricket Held, or a brisk 
walk along the suburban .streets, or a, 
thirty-mile promenade on the tricycle, 
which has become almost as prominent, 
an institution in Loudon as a family 
carriage. 

The holidays, festal occasions, politi- 
cal and sporting anniversaries are im- 
portant events in the London season. 
After Easter comes a Bank holiday, 
while business is suspended when the 
Quarter Sessions begin. On the second 
Sunday after Easter the Conservatives 
celebrate what is called Primrose Day, 
the anniversary of the death of Lord 
lleaconslield. in 1881. In May the 
Academy exhibition of paintings is 
opened, and on the eveuing preceding 
it, unless it be a Sunday, a grand din- 
ner is given at Burlington House, at 
which the president of the Royal Acad- 
emy presides, and speeches are expected 
from the Prime Minister, foreign ambas- 
sadors, distinguished orators and writers. 
In May, too, comes the anniversary of 
the birth of Queen Victoria, — a Bank 
holiday, — when all the commercial world 
enjoys a rest, and the younger class of 
employes a great frolic. Next in order 
art the Epsom races, and the Whitsun- 
tide holidays. 

The Derby, famous the world over, is 
one of the most curious and interesting 
of the racing-festivals in England, and 
brings out the most motley collection of 
people of all classes that can be seen 
during the year. The great annual 
meeting, on Epsom Downs, takes place 
just before Whitsuntide, from Tuesday 
to Friday. Wednesday is the Derby. 
Friday is the Oaks, or, as the populace 
would call it, •• The Iloaks." If the 
English think it extraordinary that the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



623 



French should always choose a Sunday 
for any grand parliamentary display be- 
fore the beginniDg of an important de- 
bate, the French think it no less singular 
that the English should adjourn their 
Parliament in order that its members 
may attend a horse-race. Legislation is, 
in fact, invariably adjourned for the 
Derby : and Sir Wilfred Lawsou and 
other reformers spend their breath in 
vain in pointing out the wickedness of 
wasting people's time in attendance 
upon a trivial sport. The passion for 
horse-flesh is so great in England that 
it infiltrates into conversation and 
metaphor. The slang of the turf is 
often used in political illustration, and 
instances may be mentioned where it has 
been employed in describing the charms 
of an actress or a professional beauty. 
The sailor and the jockey contribute 
thousands of phrases to English con- 
versation. On the Derby day, in the 
afternoon, all business in London is sus- 
pended, except the important business 
of transportation. Thousands upon 
thousands of people have gone down by 
road on drags and coaches, packed with 
hampers of food and drink, and, long 
before the hour of the races, are ranged 
in rows on the furzy and irregular hill- 
sides, which are thronged with a col- 
lection of mountebanks, gypsies, and 
adventurers of all classes; and brown- 
faced fortune-tellers, mounted on stilts, 
come to the drags to tell the fortunes of 
the ladies seated there. Young clerks 
from the city have begun their libations 
at an early hour, and soon quarrel and 
fight. A " Welcher," or a betting man 
who cheats, is thrashed within an inch of 
his life. The enormous grand-stand, 
which can accommodate thousands, 
sends forth a shout of half awe-struck 
pleasure when the arrival of the Prince 
of Wales is announced, and it is not too 



much to say that when the horses are 
led forth upon the turf fifty thousand 
people rush to their heels to admire and 
comment upon their points. The race 
itself is like all horse-races, — interesting 
mainly to those who have risked upon 
the result. The races have been regu- 
larly run at Epsom since the time of 
.lames I. when he lived at Nonsuch 
palace, and was fond of visiting the 
Derbys to see the horses run. In their 
present form the races date from 17:50. 
Formerly there were spring and autumn 
meetings, but now there is :i spring meet- 
ing in April, lasting only two days, and 
from which the fashionable world holds 
aloof. Then there is the May meeting. 
from the Tuesday to Friday before Whit- 
suntide, unless Easter comes in March. 
when the races take place after the 
Whitsuntide week. Edward, twelfth Fail 
of Derby, established the race Known by 
his name, in 1780 ; and in the year pre- 
vious to this he established the " Oaks," 
so called from one of his country seats. 
The Derby race proper is a one-and-one- 
half-milo contest for three-year-old 
gelds and fillies, and is usually run in 
from two minutes and forty-three seconds 
to two minutes and fifty-two and one- 
half seconds. Thirty years ago Tatter- 
sail's, the great sporting rendezvous in 
Auction Hall for horses in London, was 
crowded at the book-making before the 
Derby day with a miscellaneous collec- 
tion of peers and plebeians and prize- 
fighters, " butchers, bakers, and candle- 
stick-makers." farmers, soldiers, and 
even ladies, — all anxious to indulge in 
this form of gambling. The owner of a 
Derby winner, on one occasion, had to 
receive £70,000 from the ring at Tatter- 
sail's, and so strict are the regulations 
that on the settling day all this money, 
with the exception of £200 or £300, was 
in the hands of his bankers. Jockeys like 



r.i' l 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Archer, Fordham, and Wood accumulate 
large fortunes; and Archer, who heads 
the list of winning jockeys in England 
and France (for he often rides at the 
races on Longchamps, in Paris), makes 
as much money as the most successful 
of dramatic authors or leading actors. 

During the 
last racing 
season five 
pro m i lie n t 
English gen- 
tlemen, own- 
ers of live 
s t u d s o f 
horses, won 
more than 
£10,000 each; 
Mr. T. Ham- 
mond winning 
£12,379; Mr. 




ON THE ROAD TO EPSOM. 

1!. Peck, £11,906; the Duke of West- 
minster, £11,769 ; Mr. Manlon, £11,494 ; 
and Mr. Rothschild, £10,931. 

The return from the Derby is a. sight 

that. -e seen, is neverto he forgotten. 

Thousands of coaches, drags, light car- 
riages, omnibuses, and country wagons 
stream down past the grand-stand, from 



which the view extends, on one side, to 
Windsor Castle, and on the other to St. 
Paul's Cathedral ; and all the way up to 
London, fifteen miles, along pleasant 
country roads, well dotted with rural inns, 
with furzy banks, copious forests, country 
valleys, surrounded with handsome shrub- 
bery, — there is a veritable carnival of 
the rudest horse-play and sport. The 
noisy people feel it their duty and. their 
privilege to attack quiet people, and as 
two-thirds of the holiday-makers ride 
upon the topsof drags or in open wagons 
a kind of battle goes on. Now and then 
the quiet people are provoked into re- 
taliation by streams of water poured on 
them from squirt-guns, made especially 
for the occasion, and by a shower of 
pocket-flasks, stale biscuits, hits of lob- 
ster-shells, and even champagne bottles. 
Every license that the exhilaration of 
fresh air ami an unlimited quantity of 
wine can produce seems permitted, and 
the interference of the police would be 
looked upon as an unheard-of innova- 
tion. The object of the rougher class 
seems to be to ruin the garments and 
spoil the pleasure of the 
gentler number, and in this 
they thoroughly succeed. 
The result is that gentle- 
men who visit the Derby 
clothe themselves for the 
occasion in garments of 
simple gray and in white 
hats, which they count upon 
laying aside as useless 
thereafter. The ladies, 
with their customary tact, dress in sober 
colors, and if the road carnival becomes 
too uproarious they take refuge in the in- 
terior of the coaches. It was once my 
fortune to visit the Derby with a party 
who hail in their service a huge, good- 
natured, and neatly dressed American 
negro. This unfortunate servant oceu- 



EUROPE I.V STORM AND CALM. 



625 
















I 5 •• .Jfe/.- 







r 



- 



FOX-HON'nNG IN' ENGLAND. 



pied a conspicuous place on the front 
of the drag ; but before we had gone 
five miles on our return he \v;is hidden 
under the back seat in the interior, 
whence he hardly dared to emerge after 
he was in the comfortable security 
of the stable at a London hotel. Here 
and there on the road from Epsom up to 



London certain societies post good- 
looking men, who hold Lip placards for the 
contemplation of the crowd. These 
placards arc generally adorned with re- 
ligious mottoes and devices, and on one 
occasion a huge poster displayed these 
words, "Where will all this end? In 
hell-tire." 



626 EUROPE /.V STORM AND CALM. 

There are numerous races alter the in his noted picture of " Chill October." 

K|ischm during the season ; the summer The Academy is filled with capricious 

meeting at Sandown, the Ascot, to which painters, who delight in fantastic and 

the fashionable world goes in throngs, unnatural subjects, in which they can 

the New Market meeting, ami the Good- use colors evolved from their own imagi- 

woodmeeting, — all these aregreatevents nation rather than copied from anything 

for society ; and even the Queen has beeu in the visible universe. In portraiture 

known to attend the races at Ascot on the Academy is strong. All the English 

the cup day. Perhaps the most brilliant pictures, except the above-mentioned 

assemblage of ladies in the early part of portraits, have a strong literary tinge, — 

the London season is to be found at they tell a. story, often striking, some- 

K|isoni. on the Oaks day. — the Derby times touching. The English painter is 

being more especially reserved for gentle- not satisfied, like the French, with mere 

men. contrast of color without coherence, he 

The private view da}'s at the Academy wishes to recite something, to interest 
and the Grosvenor exhibitions bring more in his subject than in his technique. 
together large gatherings of celebrities. The military painters are not very 
In the handsome rooms devoted to i he numerous for a nation so often at war 
Royal Academy in Burlington House as Great Britain. Neither do the 
some seventeen hundred pictures, or painters appear to have profited by flic 
perhaps half as many as arc annually picturesque facilities offered in India and 
displayed at the Paris Salon, are exhib- other dependencies of Great Britain for 
itcd. The characteristics of the English the choice of taking subjects. English 
painting are too well know n to need much and Scotch people, it is said, wish Eng- 
discussion here. The foreign observer lish and Scotch pictures ; and there is no 
looks in vain for the brilliancy of tone doubt they will pay liberally for them, 
and the harmony of color to which the Nowhere else 1 in the world does the mod- 
continental schools of painting have crn painter get more splendid reumnera- 
accustomed him. lie finds in the solid tion than in London. Half-a-dozen of 
and enduring works of John Millais, the leading artists live in veritable pal- 
Alma Tadema, Mr. Watts. Luke Fildes, aces, which are the outgrowth of their 
Mr. Iloll. Mr. Herkomer, and Sir Fred- own industry, — '•industry" is perhaps 
crick Leighton. enough talent, even the proper word. John Millais lives in 
genius, to bestow renown upon any a noble mansion, and has a spacious 
academy. Sir Frederick Leighton is studio, in which he often receives royalty. 
the accomplished and versatile president Sir Frederick Leighton inhabits a. phe- 
of the Royal Academy. The foreigner nouienal house, with tessellated pave- 
looks with astonishment upon the great ments, cool court-yards, cabinets tilled 
mass of dull ami flaccid compositions by with antiquities and costly bric-d,-bnic, 
the younger men. If English ail needs and receives like a prime minister or a 
any informing purpose it is that of sun- peer of the realm. George Boughton 
shine. It wants blue sky ami tianslu- and Alma Tadema also have tine places 
cent atmosphere. Now and then a mas- of residence. Tadema's house is like 
ter like Millais can extract a weird his work, archa-ological and fascinating. 
poetry and charm from the sombre and In the neighborhood of Holland Park 
gray qualities of a Scotch landscape, as there is an artistic colony, with dozens 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



627 



of roomy, noble houses, where painters 
live in a very different style from that 
of the traditional garret to which they 
were supposed to be condemned. Besides 
the annual Academy exhibition there is 
a line display of the works of living 
painters, in oil and water colors, on 
the 1st of May, at the Grosvenor Gal- 
lery, which was established by Sir Coutts 
Lindsay a few years ago, doubtless to 
give increased facilities for exhibition to 
painters who are crowded out of the 
Academy. Theu there is a society of 
painters in water-colors, of which Sir 
John Gilbert is the president; also the 
institute of painters in water-colors ; the 
Society of British Artists; and the 
general exhibition of water-colors, which 
has a black-and-white exhibition during 
the season, and other minor displays. 
The English government eives a liberal 
aid to art, and the multiplication of art- 
schools throughout the kingdom is very 
remarkable. All this movement in favor 
of art-schools and art-education sprang 
from the exhibition of 1851. and from 
the impulse given to the study of the 
beautiful by that good anil able man, 
the Prince Consort. 

Of good music in London thrne is no 
lack during " the season." London has no 
opera-houses which can vie in splendor 
with those of Paris and Vienna, but in 
prosperous seasons there are two Italian 
operas and a German opera, conducted 
by Hans Richter, who has a great repu- 



tation in London. The concerts are 
legion. The real impulse to musical 
culture in London is given by the Ger- 
mans. Sir Julius Benedict is deservedly 
popular, and, despite his great age, still 

< lucts with vigor and skill. Sir Arthur 

Sullivan, famous because of his light 
operas, is already renowned for solid 
musical accomplishments. Sir George 
Grove and Mr. McKenzie arc among the 
chief authorities in the musical world. 
The aristocracy does but little for good 
music. The famous Philharmonic Society, 
which Mendelssohn used to conduct, 
gives concerts at St. James's Hall, begin- 
ning in February, and continuing into 
the season. The Richter concerts are 
,ils, i given at St. James's Hall. The 
Philharmonic's audiences are mainly re- 
cruited from the upper ranks of English 
society; the prosperous and cultivated 
Germans and Jews attend the Richter 
series. < )ne of the odd institutions of Lon- 
don is the '"Ballad Concert." The popu- 
lace is never tired of the little tooting 
ballad or simple song. Its appetite for 
these modest forms of musical composi- 
tion is enormous. The culture of sacred 
music is very important. There is a 
sacred harmonic society conducted by 
Charles Halle, a German, who has lived 
in London for nearly a half-cent m\ : 
also the Albert Hall Choral Society, con- 
ducted by Mr. Barnaby, and the Bach 
Society, where Mr. Goldschmidt, the 
husband of Jenny Lind, wields the baton. 



628 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE. 

Queen's Weather. —The Coaching Meets. — The Flower Shows. — Simplicity of English Manners. 

Eccentricity and Excellence.— Foreigners anil English Society. — The London Theatre. — Ellen 
Terry. — Wilson Barrett. — English Comedy Writers. —In the Parks. — Rotten Row. — Some 

Noble Houses in London.— A Town of Men. — Political Influence.— The Unix. 

IN the high London season there is when the sun is radiant and there are 
more out-of-door life, there are more no sudden changes that it is "Queen's 
lawn and garden parties, more assem- Weather." Oddly enough, whenever 
Wages of fashionable ladies and gentlemen Her Gracious Majesty appears in public, 
at the flower shows of the great horticnl- sin- is blessed with tranquil skies and 
tural societies, than would at .first seem the absence of down-pom-; but other 
possible in a country with a climate so members of the Royal Family and other 
variable as that of England. If the cli- English personages are not so fortunate, 
mate is variable, however, it is also eecen- The orator who goes to address a pub- 
trie; and now and then the Londoners lie meeting without his Macintosh or his 
are gratified with a summer which lias umbrella is as foolish as if he went with- 
the strange charm of the North with the out the subject-matter of his speech, 
sweetness and snlitilty of the South. In The " Coaching Meets " and the " Flow- 
1S.S4. for instance, in the great gar- er Shows " bring together as fine a collec- 
dens attached to the South Kensington tion of handsome men and pretty women 
Museum, where a successful " Health as can he found in any European capi- 
Exhibition " was held, thousands of tal. London takes a special pride in its 
gentlemen in evening dress paraded Mowers and fruit, which are forced info 
after dinner on the green lawns ami on a precocious and somewhat abnormal 
terraces until the late darkness came, at maturity in the great conservatories and 
half-past nine or ten o'clock, after which forcing houses. The prosperous mer- 
the grounds were illuminated, and Lou- chant likes to boast of his orchids, rho- 
don seemed transformed into Upper dodendrons, and an infinite variety of 
Italy or Southern France. Mr. Punch, roses. This is indeed a more creditable 
in his sprightly periodical, once illus- fashion than a pronounced extravagance 
trated by means of a picture the reason in the line' of fast horses, wines, or even 
whv the British public did not take old china. There is in the English capi- 
kindly to cafes of the Parisian form, tal a very large class devoted to the 
lie showed a crowd of stout dowagers doctrines of Mr. Bunthorne, — a class 
and fat fathers of families suddenly sub- which, while perhaps it docs not accept 
jected to a shower of sleet, just, as they Oscar Wilde as its apostle, still follows 

had begun to enjoy their coffee in the pre-Raphaelitism in dress and in the fur- 
open ail'. The people of London have a nishings of its homes. These people 
phrase, however, which illustrates their stand out in hold relief against the 
devotion to the Royal Family and their sturdy mass of English folk of all 
appreciation of a fine day. They say classes, and there arc few- if any of them 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



629 



in the upper circles. An English Duke 
is bluff and simple in his ways, delight- 
ing rather, if he boasts at all, to boast 
of his drawings by Raphael, and his 
majestic parks and lakes, than of any 
peculiarities in costume or speech. 
There is even an affectation of simplicity 
on the part of certain noblemen of high 
rank, a, kind of deference to the glow- 
ing democratic feeling, but a deference 
which the gentlemen in question would 
doubtless be slow to acknowledge if 
they were accused of it. An ill-natured 
critic has said that an English public is 
captivated by eccentricities quite as 
much as by excellence. This is but 
partly true. Originality in thought and 
expression is always respected by Eng- 
lish society, although it sometimes calls 
forth comments of extreme bluntness, 
and criticisms which in some circles 
might be called rude. To win the 
respect of the English the foreigner 
must remain himself, and never attempt 
to copy English ways of speech or dress. 
Taking the London season altogether 
it may perhaps be called the most inter- 
esting one in Europe. There is less of 
dramatic, but more of musical, brilliancy 
in the London than in the Paris season. 
There are more circles, each one larger, 
more entertaining, and wealthier, in Lon- 
don than elsewhere. Set down a. for- 
eigner in London from any part of the 
world, accord to him a good appearance 
and character, a certain refinement, and 
a few letters of introduction, and if he 
does not at once find Hie soil of society 
which lie likes he will be very hard to 
please. He will not find the upper 
world at all difficult of access, if he is 
celebrated, amusing, or instructive : and, 
on the contrary, if lie is dull and selfish, 
even though he have millions, he cannot 
enter the charmed sphere. London 
wants the best in people and in things, 



and recognizes, with great impartiality 
and good-nature, all kinds of merit. 
When it has once adopted a favorite in 
a certain specialty it hesitates for 
some time before accepting a rival in the 
same line. It appears to think that it 
can be loyal to but one excellence in a, 
single department, and if that excellence 
receives the seal of royal praise it is 
guaranteed a permanence in public favor 
which nothing short of a great scandal 
or misfortune can destroy. 

The theatre plays an important part 
in the recreations of the London high 
season, and great progress has been 
made in the last few years in the mount- 
ing and production of plays. In scenic 
splendor London is easily the superior 
of Paris to-day, the Parisians having 
given themselves bodily to the spectacle, 
with its inane jokes, and its silly, fairy 
extravagances ; while the ordinary French 
comedy, illustrative of manners and 
morals, requires no scenery beyond that 
of a parlor, a field, or a garden. The 
latent production of the brilliant Du- 
mas, the comedy of " Denise," is in 
four acts, without any change from the 
scenery of the first act. Mr. Irving, 
and, later, Mr. Wilson Barrett, have 
given a sharp influence to the archaeo- 
logical school upon the stage. In their 
productions at the Lyceum and the 
Princess's Theatre of Shakesperian 
plays and melodramas they have ex- 
pended large sums in strict adherence 
to realism, and with the view to great 
splendor. Mr. Irving is, and will long 
remain, facile princejis in the London 
theatrical world, for In 1 unites to his 
extraordinary ability as a stage man- 
ager that grain of genius, combined with 
eccentricity, which captivates the Lon- 
don heart. No one is better fitted than 
Miss Ellen Terry to serve as a piquant 
contrast to his varied moods, and to 



630 EUROPE l.X STORM AND CALM. 

portray the chief feminine characters in van, furnish all that is necessary. The 
the plays which he has so strongly London critics of the theatre and the 
stamped with his own individuality. Mr. concert are severe and just. Among them 
Wilson Barrett is :i newer applicant for are many celebrities, like Mr. Burnand, 
London favor, but has made rapid prog- editor of "Punch" ; Mr. Knight, of the 
ross, and stands almost shoulder to "Athenaeum"; Mr. Sala, of the "Tele- 
shoulder with Irving. In three or four graph"; Mr. Yates, of the "World"; 
\-ears lie has secured a prominence which Mr. ('lenient Scott, Mr. Sa.ville Clarke, 

, iu> dared prophesy for him. The and l he industrious Mr. Sims, who both 

production of "Claudiau" and similar writes and criticises plays. If the Lon- 

plays marks a new era at the old and don stage has not: yet produced artists 

well-known Princess's. Of good come- to take the place of Phelps and Buck- 

dians. men and women, London lias no stone, and of Adelaide Neilson, there is 
lack; main of them are as familiar no reason to believe that it will not one 
to the American as to the English puh day find them ; and it seems certain that 
lie: Mr. and Mrs. Kendal, Mr. and at no remote period England will have 
.Mrs. Bancroft, Mr. David James, Mr. a school of contemporary comedy writers 
Arthur Cecil, Mr. Hart Conway, Mr. as good as those of the old days. The 
Charles Wyndbam, Mr. Toole, Miss obstacles that block the way at present 
Ellen Terry, Miss Calhoun (an Atueri- are the indisposition of the public to 
can girl, who has made a line reputa- listen to the treatment of English social 
tion in London). Mr. Forbes Robert- topics with the frankness with which 
son. Mr. Terriss (who appears to have French comedians can discuss French 
been created expressly to act harmoni- society, and the ease with which a 
ously and impressively with our brilliant Freucb. piece can be adapted, remodelled, 
compatriot, Miss Anderson), and others and anglicized, so as to make a de- 
ltas known outside of London, yet who lightful work, five from guile, and 
compare favorably with the actors and sparkling with wit. English society is 
actresses of Vienna. With bright fun s.i different in many small and, at first 
and burlesque London is amply sup- sight, imperceptible, particulars, even 
plied; and a house in which the orches- from American society, that when Mr. 
tra stalls are occupied by country llronson Howard undertook, in con- 
parsons ami their families, or by prim junction with Mr. Albery, the adaptation 
old dowagers from the upper circles of of " The Banker's Daughter " to a Lon- 
M.me rich county, will listen without, don stage, he "as met in almost every 
apparent prudislmess to what would scene with the remark from his eo- 
scarcelv pass unchallenged on the Amer- laborer, "That will not do here; that 
iean stage. What Mr. Irvine, Mr. must be changed. Our audiences would 
Barrett, and one or two others have not understand that; the young lady 
done for the London theatre is to raise would not do that in London ;" and so on 
it from the level of an amusement to ad infinitum . 

that of an art for those who wish The "Rotten Row" has sometimes 

merely to be amused the late Mr. Byron been thought to derive its odd name 

and the very lively and witty Mr. Albery, from Route du It"! — the King's Way ; 

as well as the perennial Mr. Gilbert, but Mr. Timbs tells us that the name 

the Siamese twin of Sir Arthur Kulli- •■rotten" is distinctly to he traced to 



EUROPE IV STORM AXD ri /, V 



63 1 



rotteran, to muster. This seems natural 
enough, as Hyde Park was used for a 
muster-ground during the civil war, and 
many great reviews have Keen held 
there. It must he a very ugly day in- 
deed when ■• Rotten Row," in Hyde 
Park, is mil filled during the high season 
from five to seven o'clock, and often in 
the morning hours, with throngs of 
pretty women of all ages from sixteen 
to sixty, escorted by gay young cava- 
liers, or by hale and fat old millionuaires 
aud members of Parliament, peers and 
promoters of compauies, merchants aud 
professional men, taking their ride, 
and exhibiting as pretty a command of 
noble horses as can be seen anywhere 
in the world. From all the aristocratic 
sections, — from Grosvenor and Berke- 
ley squares, from Park lane and May- 
fair, from Belgrave square and St. 
James's square, and even from the grave 
and decorous district westward from 
Portland place, between Oxford street 
anil Marylebone road; from Westbourne 
terrace ; from the pretty districts around 
Regent's Park, — hundreds of horsemen 
and equestriennes take their way to the 
park after a late lunch, ride till dinner 
time, and return home only in time todress 
for that repast. The fashionable day, 
to use an Ilibernianisui, is in the night. 
The daylight hours are spent in vigor- 
ous recruiting of the energies which have 
been exhausted by " ball and rout " (for 
the English still use the old-fashioned 
"rout"), by receptions and dinner-par- 
ties, crushes in the salons of the am- 
bassadors, or late suppers after the 
theatre. During I he " season" most of 
the noble town houses of the aristocracy 
are occupied. Some of these arc veri- 
table palaces, worthy of the best days of 
Italy. Apsley House, the old home of 
the Duke of Wellington, at Hyde Park 
Corner, is above a centurv old. aud a 



nioh demonstration at the time of the 
first liefonn Pill broke its windows, 
whereupon the old Duke put up iron 
shutters, which remained there during 
his lifetime. Apsley House is famous 
for its picture-gallery, in which the 
Waterloo banquet was annually held on 
the 15th of June, until 1852. It con- 
tains one of the most noted Correggios 
in the world. Stafford House, the town 
residence of the Duke of Sutherland, 
dates from the early part of this century. 
Here the hospitable Duke receives com- 
pany from all parts of the world; and 
now and then the mansion, which is not 
unlike a Genoese palace, has a grand 
staircase, and is filled with celebrated 
pictures and statues, is thrown open to 
persons who attend a concert or enter- 
tainment in aid of some charity. The 
picture-gallery in Stafford House is 
said to be the most magnificent room 
in London. Murillo, Thorwaldsen, C'or- 
reggio, Lawrence, Etty, and Landseer 
have contributed to the decoration of 
this noble house, built for the late Duke 
of Yolk, at whose death the lease was 
sold to the first Duke of Sutherland. 
The Marquis of Westminster has a grand 
mansion, called Grosvenor House, in 
Upper Grosvenor street, and it contains 
Murillos, Titians, Guidos, Rembraudts, 
a miraculous Paul Potter, and a group 
of the best works of Iiubens, four of 
which were bought out of a Spanish 
convent for £10,000. The Duke of 
Devonshire has a plain, rather ugly, 
mansion, called after his title, in Picca- 
dilly. It is not strange that a man who 
has so splendid a country home as 
Chatsworth should not cure for an expen- 
sive London residence. In Lansdowne 
House, belonging to the Marquis of 
Lansdowne, Priestley made the discov- 
ery of oxygen, and in the picture-gallery 
there hang the portraits of Hogarth, of 



632 



EUROPE IN STORV AND CALM. 



Peg Woffiugton, and of the paiuter uim- 
self. The Marquis of Hertford, Sir 
Robert Peel, Lionel de Rothschild, the 
Duke of Bedford, the Earl of Dudley, 
the Duke of Norfolk, and many other 
noblemen have fine collections of paint- 
ings, ancient and modern. 

London speedily impresses the stranger 
as a town of men. At lirst sight the 
foreigner moving about in the great 
metropolis seems to discover in it no 
place in public for the gentler half of 
the human race. While in Paris one 
finds ladies almost everywhere that gen- 
tleiiien may go, in London they seem to 
be confined t<> their homes, to the parks, 
and to brief excursions from their car- 
riages to shops. At the theatre, and at 
some of the fashionable restaurants, 
brilliant toilets and pretty faces may be 
seen ; but the exterior of London is not 
sufficiently inviting to draw forth the 
ladies daily and at all hours, as one may 
see them in Paris and Vienna. In Lon- 
don the masculine mind is supreme. 
From time to lime there have been salons 
governed by ladies of distinction and 
having a wide influence, as in Paris, but 
now they scarcely exist. Mr. Escott 
tells us that it is •• because the social 
conditions of English society have 
changed that the salon, in the sense in 
which it is usually spoken of, has almost 
ceased to exist, rather than because no 
opportunities or inducements are to be 
found to influence politics through so- 
ciety." He also tells us that Lady 
Palmerston, who died in 1868, has had 
no successor. Lord Palmerston was in- 
debted for most of his influence and 
popularity to the social tact of his wife 
and to her salmi. •• Lady Palmerston." 
savs Mr. Escott, "received not only 
at nielit. bul in the day. and all her in- 
vitation cards were written with her own 
hand. By consummate skill she pre- 



served for her assemblies the seal of 
distinction, and every one who was in- 
vited to them regarded the invitation as 
an honor, although he was not single in 
the enjoyment of it." There was no 
resort, in London so interesting to the 
man of the world, or so useful to the 
politician. Ministers went thereto ascer- 
tain Ihe line current of public and polite 
opinion. Mr. Escott goes ,, n ( i v \\ u ^ 
that " more than one great lady has tried 
to till the place left vacant by Lady 
Palmerston," but that she has uniformly 
failed, because her invitations were in 
the hands of, and were issued by, secre- 
taries, whips, and clerks. He adds that 
the great leaders of the two chief politi- 
cal parties in the state cannot and will 
not study the art of social entertain- 
ment, and that dinners and receptions 
are given as matters of necessity and not 
of choice. 

A considerable political influence is 
doubtless wielded by the mistresses of 
many country-houses, who enjoy good 
position and large fortune, and who can 
invite to their homes large categories of 
celebrities every year. A lady who lives 
for six months in a palatial home only 
two or three miles from the metropolis, 
and who assembles about her the best 
minds of the times, sometimes takes 
pleasure in giving these minds an im- 
pulse ami watching the result of that 
impulse, during the four or five months 
of the high season, when the political 
anil intellectual activity of London is at 
its best. Mr. Escott says that English 
society has been greatly modified since 
the Reform Hill of 1832, and that it al 
present comprises, closely blended to- 
gether, the aristocracy, the democracy, 
and the plutocracy. lie thinks flic 
aristocratic principle has been strength- 
ened anil extended in its operation by 
the 1 plutocracy, but the antagonism 



EUROPE TN STURM AND CALM. 



633 



between wealth and birth has long been 
disappearing. Yet the homage paid by 
society in England to the aristocratic 
principle is genuine. In clubs the blend- 
ing of aristocracy and plutocracy con- 
stantly goes on, although the plutocrat 
often has to submit to extreme rudeness 
on the part of the aristocratic gentlemen 
whose society he covets and courts. 
Many a newly enriched Englishman 
makes himself permanently unhappy by 
forcing his way into a club the other 
members of which owe their wealth to 
their parents, and are beginning ti> 
assume that haughtiness which appears 
to accompany remoteness from trade in 
Great Britain. " To belong to a club," 
remarks Mr. Escott, " does not neces- 
sarily guarantee a personal acquaintance 
with any one of the members." " In some 
clubs where a less rigid system of eti- 
quette exists it is not thought irregular 
for one member to address another of 
whom he knows nothing if they happen 
to occupy contiguous chairs in the smok- 
ing-room. In such matters as these, and 
in many others, every London club of 
importance has special features of its 
own." Clubs, he thinks, are useful as a 
connecting link between society and 
statesmanship. The Liberal clubs are 
more comprehensive and homogeneous 
than the Conservative clubs. The Carl- 
ton, the Conservative head-quarters, is 
"a purely political and social institu- 
tion — the accepted rendezvous and 
head-quarters of the accredited repre- 
sentatives of a party. The Reform Club 
lacks political uniformity among its mem- 
bers, and a pervading consciousness of a 
political purpose." This English view 
of the two great representative and op- 
posing English clubs must, I think, have 
special interest for us. The passion for 
exelusiveness, so foreign to the Ameri- 
can character, so prominent in the Eng- 



lish, is equally pronounced in Liberals 
and Conservatives. "Club-land "— Pall 
Mall, St. James' street, Albemarle 
street, Hanover square — is a curious 
district. The club structures are truly 
palatial, imposing — models of comfort 
within. Hundreds of men may be seen 
at eleven o'clock in the morning, loung- 
ing at the wiudows, looking at the muddy 
streets and dull houses, apparently think- 
ing of nothing and doing nothing. These 
gentlemen are faultlessly dressed, have a 
languid air. and a Frenchman would 
accuse them of being troubled with 
spleen. The truth is that most of these 
gentlemen are active enough in their 
special and peculiar directions, social, 
political, or even commercial. The daily 
lounge at the club is a part of the " good 
form" which is so requisite to the Lon- 
doner of the upper classes. In the Re- 
form and the Carlton, and at Brooks, 
nearly all the political celebrities of Eng- 
land may be seen some time during the 
season. If a foreign visitor could stand 
in Pall Mall for twelve hours, and have 
pointed out to him by some one familiar 
with London faces the gentlemen who 
go in and out of the clubs, he would, be- 
fore two o'clock in the morning, have 
seen two-thirds of the leading English- 
men. The clubs of the Army and 
Navy, of the Athenaeum, the Travellers', 
the United Service, the Union, Ox- 
ford and Cambridge, the Oriental, the 
Junior Carlton are thronged every day 
during the eight or nine months of the 
year with the wittiest, brightest, the 
most powerful, and the bravest. So long 
as these chilis maintain their present posi- 
tion, the salon with lailies in command 
is not likely to reappear. Eastward, 
and in the Strand, and in Covent Gar- 
den are the literary, artistic, and theat- 
rical clubs ; and the Garrick Club house, 
in Covent Garden, and the Savage, in the 



* ;:; t 



EUROPE W STORM AND CALM 



Savoy, are familiar to all travelled Amer- of the Six Services ; clubs of the Church 
ieans. In oue or two club organizations of England; clubs for yacht-owners; 
the rather unwonted experiment of bring- clubs for the promotion of canoeing ; for 
ing ladies and gentlemen together has the cultivation of chess; diplomatic 
been encouraged, but has met with small dubs ; fat-cattle clubs, and clubs for 

whist : as well as chilis politi- 
cal, literary, artistic, and 
theatrical. There are Shake- 
speare, " Xew Shakspere," 
j| Plato, and Goethe societies; 

and lately, societies for the 
study of even contemporary 
poets, as Browning, which 
often draw upon themselves 
considerable ridicule by their 
enthusiasm. The Browning; 
society is active in study of the 
great poet to whose fame it has 
devoted its efforts. Of course 
Mi 1 . Browning, a man of ex- 
ceptionally robust and serious 

sense, though most kindly and 
unassuming in social contact, 
luis nothing to do with the cu- 
rious association which assumes 
his name. The yacht clubs, 
with their club-houses at 
success. London has clubs for people ('owes. Southsea, Queenstowu, Har- 
int rested iii mountain explorations, in wich, Oban, Rothesay, Southampton, 
sporting and coaching ; for amateur artists Ryde, and Greenhithe on the Thames, 
and collectors of art ; for merchants and nearly all are presided over by aristo- 

bankers; for officers in the East India cratic comi lores, the Prince of Wales, 

service; for gentlemen devoted to the Dukeof Edinburgh, Duke of Connaught, 
noble art of pigeon-shooting ; polo clubs Lord Richard < irosvenor, Prince Edward 
in great numbers; clubs for improving of Saxe Weimar, and others, all paying 
the breed of dogs; clubs for the officers special attention to this sort of sport.. 




ROBERT RROWNING 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



635 



CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO. 



The Strand. — A Historic Avenue. — The City and Country Types. — English Love for Nature. — The 
Farmer and his Troubles. — Rural Beauty in Warwickshire and Derbyshire. — The Shakespeare 
Festival in 1879. — Stratford. — Birmingham, the "Toy Shop of Europe." 



"XTOWHERE does the pulse of Lon- 
-L. ^ dim heat more feverishly than in 
the "Strand," — the long and crowded 
avenue which leads from Charing Cross 
to the site of the ancient Temple Bar. 
Here all classes of English society meet 
and jostle as nowhere else within the 
limits of three-quarters of a mile every 
day. and especially for an hour or two 
after dinner. Here, too, vice flaunts its 
dirty wretchedness as it dares not do 
in New York or Paris. London will not 
have its social irregularities classified or 
licensed, and gives them full liberty in 
certain quarters. On the evening of a 
great national holiday the spectacle in 
the Strand, and in many streets leading 
from it, is often shocking. Almost every 
foot of the historic thoroughfare (which 
got its name from being at the brink of the 
Thames) has its interest. In North- 
umberland Court Nelson lodged, and 
Ken Jonson lived when a boy. In 
Craven street Benjamin Franklin long- 
resided. In York House, now replaced 
by a shop in the Strand, Lord Bacon 
was born. In Buckingham street lived 
old Samuel Pepys. At the Adelphi 
Lady Jane Grey was married. At 
Coutts Bank Queen Victoria keeps her 
private account. In Cecil street Con- 
greve invented the rocket. In Fountain 
Court Blake the painter died. At No. 
132 Strand stood the old Drake's Head 
Coffee-house, of which Dr. Johnson was 
so fond. In Arundel street is the 
Arundel Chili, whose members sit up all 



night to discuss grave questions, and arc 
known as the latest club men in London. 
In Norfolk street lived William Peun. 
Dr. Johnson and Boswell often took 
supper at the Whittington Club, still in 
existence. In Exeter street lived the 
bookseller from whom Johnson and his 
pupil Garrick borrowed £5 on their joint 

note when they first came up to L Ion ; 

and at a wigmaker's, in Maiden Lane, 
Voltaire lived during most of his three 
years' stay in England. It was the 
flood of reminiscences and the proces- 
sion of ghostly figures from the roman- 
tic past that made Charles Lamb, 
as he quaintly tells us, " often shed tears 
for fulness of joy at sight of so much 
life in the Strand." 

Half the gentlemen whom one meets 
on Regent street or in Piccadilly 
have what we should call in Amer- 
ica a "country air." There is in 
their dress and in their manner a name- 
less something which betrays the fact 
that they spend the greater part of their 
time outside the walls of a large city. 
Put them on horseback in the park and 
they appear more at case than in the 
crowded and fashionable thoroughfares. 
Nine out of ten of them much prefer the 
easy and luxurious comfort of their 
secluded homes, buried in the depths of 

blossoming gardens, and surrounded by 

blooming hedges in summer, and still 
keeping in winter something of the ver- 
durous richness lor which the rainy 
island is famous, rather than the hurry 



(lot) 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



and smoke of the metropolis. To the 
tenacity with which the Englishman in 
comfortable circumstances clings to liis 
country or suburban home, and refuses 
!<> be ranged and numbered as a constant 
dweller in the city, may be ascribed the 
enduring individuality so marked in 
England. In truth, the great cities 
throughout the islands might almost be 
regarded as Mots upon the exquisite 
landscapes. There can be few more 
startling transitions than that from the 
sylvan tranquillity of the country round 
about Chatsworth to the smudge and 
prosaic gloom of Birmingham; or the 
arrival in Liverpool after a day's wan- 
derings through the quaint streets in 
ancient Chester, or the journey from 
Warwickshire by a swift train into Lon- 
don. Louis Blanc used to say that, in 
France, there was "an abyss between the 
city and the country." Surely there is 
also a sharp separation and difference in 
England between town and country. 
The wealthy Englishman delights in 
rusticity, lie apes none of the foreign 
distaste for green meadows and for robust 
exercises. Ninety-nine Englishmen out 
of one hundred feel a thrill when par- 
ticipating in the vigorous sports of the 
country-side: the fox hunt, with its 
brutal pursuit of the wily but fleet enemy 
of the farmer; the leaping of fences 
and water-courses; the heavy fall; the 
assemblage over the sherry bottle before 
and after the ride, and the discussion 
after dinner of the day's outing. The 
lilisst'ul glow which follows a complete 
use of bodily strength all day in the 
open ail' is thought liner by many an 
Englishman than the Italian's ecstatic de- 
light at the opera, or the Oriental's semi- 
swoon in the rapture induced by perfect 
climate and lack of aggressive nerves. 

Everywhere in the country one finds 
noble houses, line lawns, beautifully kept 



gardens, greenhouses and fruit orchards ; 
and one sees healthy and placid people 
quietly enjoying an unambitious and 
pleasant existence. — not a selfish one, 
hut one filled with hospitality, ami of en 
graced by refined thought ami expression 
of it. The passion for hunting helter- 
skelter oyer fields, without much regard 
to whom they belong, has received grave 
checks both in England and Ireland 
since the land agitation has begun. Mr. 
Anthony Trollope lias told us no little 
about it in the pretty story of •• The 
American Senator," and the daily press 
has sufficiently enlightened us as to the 
peril to Irish aristocrats who try to follow 
the hounds and sometimes find them- 
selves facing an infuriated Hibernian 
moli. Going down from London to 
Portsmouth, one day in midsummer, I 
observed that all my fellow-travellers in 
the compartment looked out of the win- 
dow with great eagerness, anil presently 
I discovered they were noting the 
game ; that whenever a grouse appeared, 
or a hare scudded away to shelter, they 
found an amount of pleasure in the 
spectacle which it was quite out of my 
power to share. These people live close 
to Nature, finding a charm in the con- 
trast of Nature's wildness in one region 
with her complete subjugation to and 
marriage with art in another close beside 
it. The era of small farms, minute sub- 
divisions of tilled land, — which would 
do away with the great " plantations." 
as they are called, and with the unculti- 
vated places where one who can pay for 
the privilege may bunt as frequently as 
primitive man did. — would lie looked 
upon as an unfortunate period by hun- 
dreds of thousands of Englishmen. The 
arrival of tin' peasant proprietor on the 
scene would he thought to take away its 
Chief attraction. Yet that advent is near 
at hand. In many a country a rich land- 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



63 



owner finds his tenant-farmers giving up open by the aristocrat, and by 
in disgust under the pressure of foreign discovers that lie is heir to the 
agricultural competition, bad seasons, and lies in presence of which the ar 
poor harvests. The gentleman owner 
discovers that hemusl let land lie fallow 
and the agricultural laborer is driven 
by sheer distress to think of creating 
an independent position. Tenant- 
farmers, where they are not disposed to 
give up, are becoming more exacting. 
Troubles rise out of the very soil to 
cluster about the once happy and thor- 



-and-by 
difflcul- 
istocrat 




STOPPING THE HUNTING. 



oughly independent landed proprietor, had lost his courage. Yet land is the 

The great aristocrats make concessions thing most coveted by men of newh 

in the hope of tiding over the temporary acquired wealth in England, and will be 

difficulties, incomes are diminished, and so for many a long year to come. The 

people shift their investments from land " Statesman's Year Book "of 1884 shows 

in England to land in Dakota or Egypt, that while the cultivated area in the 

The plutocrat pops into the place left kingdom has increased by marly teu 



638 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

thousand acres since 1881, the area un- essay will there be found much sighing 

del' all kinds of crops lias decreased by alter the suit South, with its semi-tropi- 

forty thousand acres. cal warmth and profusion of flowers. 

In London one gets the idea that Eng- The Northerner rejoices in the rugged- 
land is perplexed with a thousand difficul- ness of his hills, his stormy shores, his 
ties. — annoyed by innumerable anxie- mysterious mists ami fogs, his quaint 
ties. The atmosphere is oik- of unrest, rocks and inlets. .Midland people boast 
The talk is nt' a military expedition to of their great parks and noble pastures, 
.some remote country, the haps and their splendid castles and well-kept 
mishaps of commerce, the phases of the fauns; and the Southerners, of thegrassy 
"Eastern Question," the consolidation downs, and sheltered nooks where even 
of the Colonial Empire, the future of exotic shrubs prosper, and where in 
Egypt, th«' advance of Russia, the com- summer there is a luxuriance of vegeta- 
petition of America, and the discontent tion and blossom worthy of the Medi- 
of Ireland. lint it is easy to get out terranean shores. If one wishes to get 
of this atmosphere of uncertainty ami an adequate notion of the supreme con- 
ambition into a serencr England, where tent of the Englishman with his island 
the present in nowise disturbs the repose home let him attack its advantages and 
of the |iast and the beauty of its ac- belittle its excellences. He will soon 
cumulated memorials. However much find sturdy responses to all his strictures 
London may he convulsed with stormy and criticisms. Doth the English and 
discussions which seem to involve the French are fond of comparing every- 
future of tlic whole British Empire, the thing they see abroad with something at 
peasants and tiie middle classes one or home, and of making comparisons advan- 
two hundred miles away from tin- capi- tageous to their own possessions. 
tal are but little interested by these A curious feature of the country dis- 
debates. In the pleasant country towns triets in England is often remarked, par- 
things go on in the same old dreamy ticularly by American travellers. Al- 
and tranquil way in which they have though it is said that Great Britain is 
been progressing for hundreds of years, intensely populated the country does 
The great land-owner is secure in hi> not appear to be so thickly settled as in 
castle, and appears unconscious of the the older portions of the United States. 
fiery utterances of Mr. Chamberlain. Thousands of acres an givenupto" plau- 
The "Squire" is not in the slightest tations " of young trees. Onemay travel 
fear of approaching revolution, and the miles without meeting a human being or 
peasantry seem scarcely to have heard without seeing a farm. The roads, ex- 
of the great change;- supposed to be im- cepting in the vicinity of the great 
pending. There is little doubt that they manufacturing towns, are never crowded. 
all know that a silent transformation is Driving or walking through "Warwick- 
beginning; but I hey make little allusion shire or Derbyshire one does not meet at 
to it. every turn, as in France, Belgium, and 

The rural beauty of England is so other continental countries, peasants 

great that the Englishman is excusable going to and coining from market, or 

for the extreme pride which he takes working by the roadside, or bands of 

in it, and for his enthusiasm in the de- strollers. One is often tempted to stop 

scription of it. In no English novel or and inquire where the people have gone. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



(539 



The ancient towns seem unlikely to be 
awakened from their immemorial sleep. 
The birth-place of .Shakespeare is as 
quiet as it was three hundred years 
ago. 

In Warwickshire, in Derbyshire, and 
in the Lake Region, the rural beauty of 
England is manifest in its perfection. 
Here are no mighty glens, no lofty 
mountains, no enormous lakes or majes- 
tic streams ; but, although everything is 
on a modest scale, it forms a harmo- 
nious picture which is absolutely enchant- 
ing. Stratford, with its quaint streets, 
its sleepy church among the noble trees, 
its flowery lanes bordered by com- 
fortable cottages; Warwick, with its 
ancient hospital and its noble castle; 
Charlecote, where Sir Thomas Lucy, 
whom Shakespeare lampooned as " Jus- 
tice Shallow," built a rambling hall in 
Queen Elizabeth's reign ; Hampton Lucy 
Luddington, in whose church Shake- 
speare is said to have been married ; 
Coventry, with its numerous spires, its 
legends and its embowered streets — 
all these in midsummer are surpassingly 
beautiful. To go from London to Bir- 
mingham by the old highway, the travel 
on which is said to have contributed 
to the up-building of Stratford before 
Shakespeare's birth in that town had 
made it a place of pilgrimage, takes 
one through the exquisite Arden dis- 
trict, where the hedges, woods and cop- 
pices, the gentle hills, the beautiful valleys, 
the " mooted granges " of which Tenny- 
son speaks, the winding streams and wild 
glens, offer a perpetual feast to the eyes. 

Stratford itself is familiar to all the 
world, and I therefore shall not attempt 
to describe it. The Shakespeare house, 
where " Nature nursed her darling boy," 
has somewhat the aspect of a museum, 
and the temptation to meditate within 
its walls is lessened by the business- 



like air with which the custodians exact 
sixpence for access to the birth-room, 
and sixpence to the museum. At the 
tercentenary Shakespeare anniversary 
and festival, held at Stratford in 1879, 
there was a great gathering of Shake- 
spearian scholars and commentators, and 
of the lovers of poetry and the drama, 
to witness the dedication <>f the Memo- 
rial Theatre, which now stands in a pleas- 
ant garden on the banks of the river. 
This simple ami unpretentious festival, 
which lasted for several days, seemed to 
awaken but small enthusiasm among the 
country people in the neighborhood, 
some of whom would perhaps have been 
puzzled to tell who Shakespeare was. 
But no monument can be so appropri- 
ate as this stately pile of Kli/.abethan 
architecture — this theatre, with museum, 
library, and picture-gallery, attached. 
A company of London comedians per- 
formed the comedy of •• .Much Ado About 
Nothing." Actors and actresses, in the 
intervals of their labor, joined in pretty 
excursions in the evergreen byways and 
the verdurous fields. Perhaps some day 
there will be founded a school of acting, 
the influence of which will do much to 
improve the public taste for Shakespeare 
and his works. The theatre is but a 
little distance from the village church, and 
above the tomb in this church is the old 
monument which represents Shakespeare 
writing upon a cushion, with an entabla- 
ture bearing his coat-of-arms above the 
niche in which bis image appears. 

The famous Inns at Stratford are small 
and quaint. The "lied Horse" has 
been immortalized by Washington Irv- 
ing, and thi' Shakespeare Hotel has its 
rooms adorned with paintings illustrating 
the chief scenes in the great poet's com- 
edies and tragedies. The waiters in this 
unique hostelry have long been ac- 
customed to designate each room bv the 



640 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

name of the play from which its painting member. < Md Hatton, in the eighteenth 

is taken, and in the morning, before the century, made a prophecy concerning the 

guests have emerged, one hears the future grandeur of industrial Birming- 

servants calling out: "Hamlet wants ham. He said: "We have only seen 

his boots ; Ophelia wants his hot water ; her in infancy, comparatively small in 

.lulins Cfesar wants his brandy and water ; her size, homely in her person, and gross 

Coriolanus wishes his breakfast sent in her dress, — her ornaments mostly of 

up at once." Throughout Warwickshire iron from her own forge; but now her 

the common people have a curious flavor growth will be amazing, her expansion 

in their speech, a dry humor, and odd rapid, perhaps not to be paralleled in 

forms of expression, which it is perhaps history. She will add to her iron orna- 

m>t presumptuous to characterize as ments the lustre of every metal that 

Shakespearian, [n drawing his peasantry the whole earth can produce, with all 

the poet simply put his immortal wit and their illustrious race of compounds, 

his pungent philosophy into the homely heightened by fancy and garnished 

phrase which lie heard every day around with jewels. She will draw from 

him; and a great contemporary novelist, the fossil and vegetable kingdoms; 

in following this illustrious example, press the ocean for her shell, skin and 

shows that the men of England can coral. She will also tax the animals 

talk to-day as picturesquely as they did for horn, bone, and ivory; and she will 

three centuries ago. decorate the whole with the touches of 

In Birmingham one steps out of the her pencil." 
domain of history and souvenir, and Birmingham has done all this, even 
comes down to the prosaic present, more. To the far Orient she sends or- 
Birmingham has no older history than naments of every description ; to Prussia, 
that of many of the towns of New to India, and to America, she exports 
England. It took no part in the brass and iron, steel and silver, and 
politics of the nation before the lie- bronze am! gold. she enrages the 
ginning "1' the present century, except, French by making their " Articles de 
when Charles I. and his Parliament Paris;" she makes copper coins for half - 
were at war. Then Birmingham was a-dozen governments. Her silver and 
zealous in the cause of the "Round her electro-plating, her brass foundries, 
Heads." and even seized the 1 Royal her chemical works, her guns, swords, 
plate which King Charles left when pass- pistols, jewelry and trinkets, her lamps, 
ing through the town from Salisbury to her pins, her ornamental glass, — these 
Loudon. Birmingham was punished for arc scattered over the world. " The 
this audacious act by Prince Rupert's Toyshop of Europe" is a proper name 
plundering expedition on the following for Birmingham. She applies the same 
year. It seems odd to reflect that Bir- energy and patience to the fabrication 
raingham had no representation in Par- of a pin that she does to the construc- 
liament until after the passage of the tioii of an hydraulic jack big enough 
Reform Hill of 1832, — a triumph for to launch the Great Eastern, or raise the 
which the Political Union had worked Cleopatra Needle to its pedestal on the 
vigorously. Not until after the repre- Thames embankment. Her public build- 
sentation of •■The People's Act.'' in ings and parks, her statues, her non- 
1806, did Birmingham get its third conformist churches; her memorials of 



EUROPE IX STiiHM AND CALM. 



li-il 



Peel and Priestly, Watt and Boulton, "Adam Bede." 
Murdock and Eglington ; her halls, from ancient Peacock 
w h i c h h a v e 
gone forth such 
splendid utter- 
ances in favor 
of Liberalism. 
— are all worth}' 
of her wealth 
and the taste 
of her citizens. 
The varied in- 
dustry, how- 
ever, has left 
its stain on the 
town, which, 
like Manchester 
and Liverpool, 
is dingy, cold, 
ami a trifle re- 
pellant in ap- 
pearance. 

Hawthorne 
states that in 
Derbyshire is 

to be found the most exquisite scenery he crags, filled with 
ever beheld. Thither George Eliot went ing streams, and 
for the scenery and her characters for 




GEORGE ELIOT. 



Rowsley, and the 
Inn ; the old seats 
of the Dukes 
of R u thin d ; 
stately Chats- 
worth, with its 
long halls tilled 
with drawings 
by Raphael, 
and with its 
costly gardens, 
conservatories, 
orchid houses ; 
Matlock, Buck- 
stone, Bickwell 
and Words- 
worth, Hard- 
wick Hall and 
Bolsover ( !as- 
tle, — stand in 
the midst of 
romantic val- 
leys, walled in 
by rocky and 
foliage - elad 
grottos, nooks, charm- 
well-kept forests. 



642 EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE. 

The Lake Country. — The Home of Poets and Essayists. — Scotland. — Glasgow, its Commerce and its 

Antiquities. — The Great Northern Seaport. — Edinburgh and its Memorials. — The Home of 
Burns. 

rP^UE '• Lake Country " of England Miss Martineau lived for many years. 

-L has for us a double interest be- Not far away is Dr. Arnold's old bouse, 

cause of the indefinable charm asso- where the great Rugby master used to 

ciated with its richly chid hills, ils pretty come in vacation time to recruit from 

expanses of water, and its rich valleys, his arduous duties. In the vale of Gras- 

aud because the district was once the mere Mrs. Hemans wrote some of her 

home of Wordsworth, De Quincey, most sentimental verse. De Quincey and 

Southey, Arnold, Harriet Martineau, and Wordsworth both lived for short periods 

Mrs. Hemans. There are iu all this in Grasmere village, and there in the 

district no mountains which rise above bumble church-yard is the grave of 

the heiglll of four thousand feet, no Wordsworth. 

lakes which wo should account large; It is hut a short walk from Amble- 
but lake and valley, and forests and side to Ryda] Mount, the favorite home 
country roads, are all in the most ex- of the poet, — a charming cottage liicl- 
quisite setting. Here and there, on the den under ivy and rose-trees, the very 
"Fells" and " Scars," as they are place for contemplation ami the cultiva- 
ealled. there are hits of wild scenery tion of the muse. Professor Wilson 
approaching the grand. One should used to say there was " not such another 
enter this district by Grange, after cross- splendid view in all England as can he 
iug what Wordsworth called "themajes- had from the eminences alone- the road 
tic barrier of the Lancaster sands," and from Ambleside. The views of Wiuder- 
which annually demands the lives of mere from this route are indeed delight- 
many uncautious travellers; and after fill. The islands lie clustered together; 
an excursion to old Kurness Abbey and the hikes seem like a grand tranquil river 
to Ulverstone, one may set off through bending around a point. Bold or 
the crumbling villages and sheltered gentle promontories," adds Professor 
roads to Windermere and Coniston, near Wilson, "break all the banks into fre- 
which latter lake John Ruskill has a ipient hays, seldom without a cottage, 
country-seat. Thence one may go to or cottages, embowered in trees, anil 
Ambleside, where a day or two at the the whole landscape is of a sylvan kind ; 
old ••Salutation" tavern will he found parts of it are so studded with woods 
a perfect rest. This pretty country is that you see only here and there a wreath 
dotted with mansions and picturesque of smoke, hut no houses, and could al- 
cottages. At Elleray stood the old most believe that you were gazing on 
home of Professor Wilson (Christopher the primeval forests." 
North), (lose by Ambleside is the ivy- From Ambleside to Keswick the route 
shrouded house or " The Knoll," where is charming, and in holiday time is 



EUROPE IX STURM AND CALM. 



G43 



thronged with excursionists from London. 
At Keswick is the old home of Southey, 
— Greta Hall, — on a small hill, close by 
a pretty river, on the road to Cocker- 
mouth. Lake Uerweutwater, with its 
picturesque islands, with its silvery ex- 
panses, within an amphitheatre of rocky 
Imt not high mountains, broken into 
fantastic shapes, heaped and splintered 
with little precipices, with shores swelling 
into woody eminences — is the gem of 
this region. Near it is the resounding 
cascade, Lodore, about which Southey 
wrote his astonishing verses, intended 
to represent the babble of the waters, 
for the amusement of his children. 
Near by also are the mountains of 
Ilclvellyn and Skiddaw. 

Scotland has for us a romantic in- 
terest which nothing can abate, although 
long years have passed since the " en- 
chanter of the north" aroused the cu- 
riosity of the world concerning the 
legends and the history of the great 
northward promontory, with its moun- 
tains, morasses, and waste lands jutting 
out into the Northern sea. Scotland 
does not impress one as a sterile country, 
and yet three-fourths of its surface are 
unproductive agriculturally. Scarcely 
more than five millions of acres arc 
under cultivation on the main land and 
the numerous islands. But the little 
population of hardly more than four 
millions of people is one of the most 
prosperous and interesting in Europe. 
Glasgow is to-day the second city in the 
United Kingdom, larger, but perhaps 
not wealthier, than Liverpool, and is one 
of the great ocean termini of the world. 
Approaching Glasgow by night, through 
the picturesque upland country which 
lies between Keswick, Penrith, and 
Carlisle, and crossing the debatable 
ground where for centuries the borderers 
waged merciless war upon each other, 



the strange land which has produced so 
many great men, — the land where Carlyle 
was 1 Kirn. and where he lies buried, — one 
sees the landscape lighted up by hun- 
dreds of weird flames, the skies aglow; 
and many a stranger, taking his first 
walk in Glasgow city, inquires of the 
amused passers-by where the great con- 
flagration is in progress. By day the 
flaming chimneys and the little moun- 
tains of coal refuse do not look so 
interesting. Glasgow has its beauties, 
however, — its broad and solid commer- 
cial avenues, lined with stately stone 
buildings, its simps, which vie in splen- 
dor and importance with those of London 
and Dublin. The great wharves along 
the Broomielaw are [lacked with goods 
of every description; little steamers on 
the Upper, and great steamers on the 
Lower, Clyde, seem almost innumerable. 
Down river the ship-building yards are, 
even in dull and panicky times, crowded 
with thousands of operatives, who toil 
upon the iron and steel monsters, which 
plough the seas throughout the civilized 
world. One feels that here is a great 
outlet like London, Antwerp, or Mar- 
seilles. Here the pulse of commerce 
beats strongly, albeit not feverishly. 

There is a sturdy independence of the 
metropolis in Glasgow, as indeed through- 
out Scotland. The names of celebrated 
English authorities in science and in 
literature, of English poets and painters, 
are not so often heard here as those of 
the Edinburgh school. Scotland is not 
England, although it is now an integral 
part of Great Britain. It is an individual 
country, with a profound originality, with 
its old customs and methods of thought 
but little trenched upon by political union 
with the South. One-third of its popula- 
tion is packed into eight large manufact- 
uring cities: Glasgow with 770,000, 
Edinburgh with 230,000, Dundee with 



644 



EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 



1 13,000, Aberdeen with 105,000, Green- 
ock, the port of Glasgow, with 6G,000, 
Leith,the porl of Edinburgh, with59,000, 
Paisley with 55,000, and Perth with 28,- 
(100. The t < » t : 1 1 town and village popu- 
lation is two-thirds of the whole, — very 
small encouragement for the fanner; yet 
the wild hill country, stretching away from 
the outskirts of Glasgow 1" Cape Wrath 
ami (he far Hebrides, contributes largely 
lc the wealth of the busy city; pours 
into it ils flocks and herds, and the prod- 
uce of its lakes and inlets, and lakes 
hack merchandise brought from every 
port of the world. In the most seem- 
ingly inaccessible nook in the Highlands 
yon may find evidence of frequent inter- 
course with the outer world. 

On the hill :it the top of the famous 
"High Street" stands the old Gothic 
cathedral, with its large aisles, broken by 
short transepts, its dozen bays exactly 
alike, ami its uniform clere-story windows. 
Nothing in all England is more beautiful 
than the crypt of the cathedral, with its 

sixty-five beautiful pillars, surmounted 
by delicately carved capitals and grace- 
ful early English arches, with the light 
streaming in through the lancet windows. 
Curious, too. is the old church-yard, 
paved with gravestones, and the Necrop- 
olis, perched high on an eminence beyond 
the cathedral, not unlike the fantastic 
Odd Fellows' cemetery in San Francisco, 
or like some ancient Turkish cemetery. 
Here are the monuments of celebrated 
men like John Knox, the Reformer, and 
of Dr. Win. Black ; and within the cathe- 
dral is the tomb of Edward Irvine;. This 
old cathedral, which bra veil the fury of the 
Reformation, was so loved by the citv 
nestling at its feet, that, when the Pres- 
byterian ministers had prevailed on the 
magistrates in the sixteenth century to 
Lave it destroyed, tin- guilds of the city 
arose in arms and dared the officers of 



the law to execute the decree. From 
many a point of vantage among the vast 
marble monuments in the Necropolis 
one can look out oyer Glasgow, with its 
thousands of chimneys, along the seem- 
ingly endless lines of masts on the Clyde, 
and over the hills of Lanark and Argyll, 
above which hangs the vaporous blue or 
the peculiar gray so noticeable in Scottish 
scenery. Glasgow is faithful to the 
memory of the great " Scotch Wizard ; " 
and in the centre of George's square 
rises a monument of Sir Walter, with a 
group of statues illustrating the different 
characters which sprang from his teem- 
ing brain clustered about the foot of the 
monument. Westward, in modern Glas- 
gow, is the great University, opened 
half a generation ago. Glasgow is tilled 
with students, — hundreds of painstaking 
young men who come from the hills and 
the shores of the inland lakes and rivers 
to carve out solid careers in the face 
of poverty and difficulty, nowhere 
so stern and so persistent as in this 
strange, barren land, which yet produces 
so much wealth, intellectual and material. 
As in certain quarters of London one 
seems to go hand in hand with Dickens, 
and to meet in the different localities 
visited the characters which never had 
existence save in his fiery imagination, 
so in Glasgow and Edinburgh one is 
constantly reminded of Sir Walter Scott 
and his creations. The Cross, the Gal- 
lowgate, the Salt Market, the old corner 
of Trongate and High streets, where 
stood the prison into which " Rob Roy" 
was thrust in Glasgow, and the Grass 
market, Castle Hill, the Cowgate, St. 
Giles's Church, Arthur's Seat, Cannon- 
gate, Holyrood, and most of all, Mel- 
rose, in and about Edinburgh, recall 
to mind those enchanting days when one 
was first introduced to Walter Scott's 
world. The Scotch do not hesitate to 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



r.-tr. 



call Edinburgh the finest city in the 
kingdom, and Mr. Baddeley tells us that 
in no cit)', unless it be Bath, " has Art 
so successfully turned to account the 
peculiar advantages vouchsafed to her 
by nature. In both cities the archi- 
tects, whether designedly or not, seem 
to have gone to work thoroughly in har- 
mony with the physical lines laid down 
for them, and their success is unques- 
tionable. "While the smooth green slopes 
and woody meadows, forming the girdle 
of the ' Queen of the West,' called 
forth a regular style of architecture 
which should not displease the eye by 
any startling discord, the rugged inequali- 
ties and sudden transition from smiling 
plain to bare and frowning rock, which 
mark the site of the ' Modern Athens,' 
seem to demand a corresponding incon- 
gruity in their artificial treatment. 
Edinburgh is a city of contrasts, bold 
and striking." 

The sense of contrast is heightened 
when one comes directly by swift ex- 
press train from Glasgow to Edinburgh. 
Unaccustomed to picturesqueness in the 
great majority of British towns, the 
stranger is startled and delighted at the 
exquisite scene presented to him as he 
looks from hill to hill over the town and 
the rugged castles, the noble monuments, 
and the flue public edifices. New Edin- 
burgh harmonizes well enough with the 
character of ancient Edinburgh, and this 
result, so rarely accomplished when an- 
cient cities have modern quarters added 
to them, has not been achieved without 
much study and care. This new quarter 
was not in existence a century ago, and 
the magistrates of the city, in order to 
promote its creation, offered a premium 
of £20 to the first 1 milder of a house in 
it. Now it is a great district of fine 
streets, squares, and monuments. 

Prince's street, with its evergreen plots. 



its gardens, its deep dell, out of which 
arise the black crags of the Castle, is a 
splendid avenue. At its east end is 
Calton Hill, and above if Waterloo 
Place, where stands a rather audacious 
imitation of the Parthenon, called " The 
National Monument." A little beyond 
are the Nelson's monument and the 
Observatory; also the monuments to 
Dugald Stewart and to Professor Play- 
fair. Northward lies Leith and the 
Forth; eastward. Portobello, one of 
the sea-side resorts of Edinburgh ; and 
close at hand is Arthur's Seal. On the 
south side of the street, and not far 
from the handsome Waverly station, is 
the beautiful gothic monument to Sir 
Walter Scott, with a statue of him 
underneath the airy arches. In the 
niches, as in the Glasgow memorial, are 
characters from the works of the great 
poet, and novelist. Scotland has bor- 
rowed boldly from the Greek architec- 
ture in the construction of its National 
Gallery, and its museums. In Palmer- 
ston Place stands a tine Gothic Cathe- 
dral, — St. Mary's, — founded by two 
ladies, who spent £100,000 upon the 
edifice. Eastward, in Melville and 
George streets, are many memorials 
and bronze statues, the Albert Memo- 
rial, with the Prince Consort on horse- 
back, and the Melville Monument, — 
an imitation of the Trajan Column. 

The great feature of Edinburgh is the 
Castle, which may be reached from the 
new town across the valley of the Prin- 
ces Street Gardens, — once the basin of 
the Nor Loch, in which offenders against 
the laws were ducked, — and so along 
by the Waverly Bridge, of (lie " Mound," 
as it is called, on which stands the 
National Gallery. The Castle is entered 
through a portcullis gate under the Old 
State Prison, whence two luckless 
Argylls, in the history of Scotland, have 



646 



EUROTE IN STOH.V A.YD CALM. 



been taken forth to execution, — one 
for his loyalty to Charles II.. and the 
other for his allegiance to Monmouth. 
Those rather antiquated hits of furni- 
ture, — the Regalia of Scotland, — have 
a room to themselves, where they have 
reposed since they were unearthed two 
generations ago by a search-party, 
headed by Sir Walter Scott himself. 
They had been hidden away in the times 
of the Stuarts, in a fortress on the coast 
at Kincardine, lest their exposure to view 
should awaken feelings hostile to the 
treaty of Union with England. Queen 
Mary's room, St. Margaret's Chapel, 
and the enclosure in which stands the 
ancient cannon, the origin of whose 
name of Mons Meg is a matter of such 
grave dispute, are I he other chief features 
of the Castle. The outlook over Edin- 
burgh ami the Frith of Forth and the 
hills of Fife beyond is fascinating. On 

Castle Hill, the old house of the first 

Duke of Gordon, the General Assembly 
loom of the Church of Scotland, where 
John Knox met the first Assembly in 
1560; the Free Church Assembly Hall ; 
the Grass Market, where hundreds of 
Covenanters perished for their religion, 
and where the Porteous riots took place 
in 1736; Grey Friars' Church, with the 
tombs of the Covenanters ; the university 
and museum with their splendid natural 
history collections; Cowgate, .James's 
court, where Johnson was received by 
Boswell on his tour to the Western 
highlands, and where Hume wrote part 
of his history of England; the Long- 
market and High street, with St. (iiles's 
Church ; the old city Cross, tin- Tolbooth, 
or "The Hearl of Midlothian ;" Parlia- 
ment square, with its equestrian statue 
of Charles II. and the humble stone on 
which appear the letters and figures 
"I. K., 1572," supposed to lie the site 
of John Knox's grave ; Parliament 



House, with its noble roofs of carved 
oak, and its superb library; the Tron 
Church, where stood the weighing-beam 
to which the keepers of false weights 
were nailed by the ears; the high, fan- 
tastic, narrow house in which John Knox 
lived from 1559 to the time of his death ; 
Moray House, from the balcony of 
which Mary Stuart and Lord Lome 
looked down upon the Marquis of Mont- 
rose as he was led to execution; the 
Canongate church-yard, where lie buried 
Adam Smith, Dugald Stewart, and Dr. 
Adam Ferguson; Queensberry House 
ami the old White Horse Inn ; and 
last, and of most importance, the beauti- 
ful and original Holyrood Abbey and 
Palace, — these are wonders and treas- 
ures such as few other towns in Great 
Britain can boast of, grouped together 
by accident as well as if the grouping 
had been in obedience to some harmo- 
nious, preconceived design. In Holy- 
rood Lord Darnley's rooms and Queen 
Mary's apartments are still shown, and 
at the entrance to the audience chamber 
a little dark stain upon the floor is pointed 
out as the blood of the unfortunate 
Rizzio. 

From Glasgow and from Edinburgh 
the chief excursions are not, as might 
be supposed in a country so devoted to 
manufacturing and to the special pursuit 
of wealth, to coal mines, or great nietal- 
lurgic establishments, but to the homes 
and graves of poets ami romancers. The 
brief and pleasant ride from (llasgovv 
takes one through interesting old towns 
like Paisley, where Christopher North 
was born ; like Irvine, where Robert 
Bruce surrendered to the English army, 
and where the poet Montgomery first 
saw the light; past Troon, the great 
summer resort of the Ayrshires, near by 
the frowning ruins of Dundowning Castle, 
and brings one to Ayr. on the pretty sea- 



EUROTE TN STORM AND CALM. 



1)47 



const at the mouth of the river of the was married to Jean Armour, and where 
same name. Here, on this picturesque his plough turned up the mouse's nest; 
country side, everything is filled with and farther away, near Dumfries, is 
memories of the poet whose lyric genius Ellisland farm, where Hums wrote Tain 
lifted him into immortality. Here one 
may wander along the Doon, visit the 
Burns monument, in which may still be 
seen the Bible which Burns gave to " High- 
land Mary," note the quaint statues of 
Tam O'Shanter and Souter Johnnie, in a 
grotto, peep in at the Auld Alloway 
Kirk, the woodwork of which has nearly 
all been carried off by the carving tour- 




PKEK-STALKINU IN THE HIGHLANDS. 



ists, and enter the rude cottage in which O'Shanter and the ode "To Mary in 

the poet was horn. Straying through Heaven." Thousands of pilgrims an- 

the woods and fields from Mauchline to nually visit the humble house in Dum- 

Montgomerie, one comes upon the pretty fries, where Burns lived when lie was 

house where " Highland Mary" lived as exciseman, where he died, and where, in 

a dairy-maid, and " Poosie Nansie's" the vault beneath the mausoleum in St. 

cottage, where the "•Jolly Beggars" Michael's church-yard, the poet and his 

met : the farm at Mossgiel, where Burns wife repose. 



648 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHA PTER S EV ENTY-FOUR. 

Scotlantl : i n*l Ireland. — The Scotch Highlands. — Scenes of Scott's Stories anil Burnss Poems. — 
Balmoral. - Over to Belfast. — The Irish Land League.- Imprisonment of Parnel] and his Parti- 
sans. — The Crimes Act and its Causes. — A Land League .Mass Meeting. -ThcWild and Savage 
Peasantry. 

IX the Scotch Highlands the " Globe when lie crosses Loch Lomond without 
Tri >tter," who is familial- with stately seeing the peaks and crags of which he 
mountains, with yawning precipices, and lias heard so much, and concerning which 
noble sea views, from India to Canada, he lias formed such tremendous expec- 
is often tempted to stop and inquire of tations. In the Trossachs (the bristly 
himself whether he would really be inter- country) when the sun shines brightly 
esled in the Scottish uplands and hills through the oak copses, among the sil- 
if it were not for their sturdy charm, very gray birches, and when it gilds the 
Loch Lomond, with its guardian moun- purple crags and the rich carpets of 
tains ; Loch Katrine, Stronachlachar, green yrass, there is plenty of excuse 
Tarbet, Callendar, Oban, the Caledonian for the wildest enthusiasm. The color 
Canal, Inverness, the hinds of Ross and charms of Scotland are mild as corn- 
Sutherland, the Isle of Lewis, with pared with those of Switzerland and 
pretty Stornoway ; the Isle of Skye, the Italy, but to the dweller under the gray 
Chain of Highlands, Staffa and lona ; and rainy sides of England they seem 
the Crinan canal, threading its way surpassingly beautiful. Glasgow, which 
through the moist green pastures, — these is by all reports one of the thirstiest 
places arc all celebrated; lint without towns in the three kingdoms, and which 
the enthusiastic celebration of them by does not always content itself with water, 
writers and poets native to the soil they has made I.oeh Katrine, which is thirty- 
would have remained in comfortable ob- four miles from the city limits, its chief 
scurity, enjoyed only by (he shepherd, reservoir. For the building of the aque- 
the fisher, and the hold hunter on the duct from the lake to the city a sum of 
steep mountain sides. A certain hide- £1,500,000 was necessary, and seventy 
finable attraction seems to exhale from tunnels had to be rebuilt. The leafy 
Scotch scenery, even in the dispiriting glens filled with labyrinths of rocks, and 
environment of the mists which conn' so mounds studded with oak, rowan, and 
frequently and stay so long. Out of the birch, are perhaps more weird in a rainy 
great gray clouds come dashing little than in a sunshiny day ; but the greater 
showers, which seem to have a kind of part of Scotch scenery needs sunshine 
malice, and drench the traveller to the to bring out its values, 
skin before he can reach shelter. In One of the noblest stretches of High- 
tliese rains and misls, tin.' lochs, with hind scenery is that which lies along the 
their deep mountain walls, disappear as railroad from Callendar to the great 
if by magic. The holiday tourist, w hose fashionable seaside of Oban. The ride 
time is limited, bemoans his sad fate from the Trossachs to Callendar is from 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



649 



end to one! associated with Sir Walter 
Scott's poem of " The Lady of the Lake." 
At the foot of Loch Yennachar the trav- 
eller is shown the spot where Roderick 
Dim flung down his gage to Fitz James. 
It is a high tribute to creative genius that 
the guides always speak of Sir Walter 
Scott's characters as if they had really 
lived. The route from Callendar to 
Oban takes one through the pass of 
Lucy, where gentle heights, clad with 
silver birch, hazel, oak, and heather, 
rise gradually into irregular and majes- 
tic hills. Loch Earn, Glenogle, Pilchurn 
Castle. Loch Awe, the passes of Brandon 
and of Awe, the bridge of Awe, — around 
which cluster memories of Bruce and 
Wallace, — and 1 tunstaffnage ( 'astle, are 
all picturesque, and many of them im- 
posing. Oban is a pretty town extend- 
ing alone- the shore of the semicircular 
bay which gives it its name, and which 
seems landlocked by the island Kerrera. 
From Dunnolly Castle, a noble ivy- 
shrouded ruin, on a pedestal of rock on 
the north end of Oban bay. the sea-view 
is delightful. In the harbor lie dozens 
of yachts, and from these little crafts there 
is always an influx of titled and aristo- 
cratic ladies and gentlemen, who fill the 
hotels with the show and glitter of Lon- 
don ; who delight in parties, mountain 
excursions, and balls; who, in short, 
carry into the remote recesses of the 
highland sea-shore the gavetv of the 
metropolis, exactly as the Frenchman 
takes his theatre, his sweetheart, ami bis 
horse-racing with him when he goes to 
the sea-side for what he is pleased to 
term his "mid-summer repose." Through 
the pretty archipelago one goes to the 
little bay of Crinan, whence by the At- 
lantic' canal travellers are transferred to 
Ardrishaig, — a three-mile ride inacanal 
boat, something larger than a wash-tub, 
— an excursion which is decidedly de- 



pressing when performed in the midst of 
a pouring rain. At Ardrishaig great 
steamers, equipped with American lux- 
ury, with showy restaurants and hand- 
some parlors, fly downward past Rothe- 
say, one of the most fashionable Scutch 
sea-sides, and thence by the Clyde to 
Greenock. Northward from ( (ban leaves 
the great water-route of the Caledonian 
canal to Inverness through what is called 
the Great Glen of Scotland, which con- 
sists of a chain of lakes connected by 
shallow streams. This route is so 
straight that the steamer's course is only 
four miles longer than the air line taken 
by the crow in his migrations. On Loch 
Ness is the celebrated fall of Fyers, 
sometimes described as the most magnifi- 
cent cataract in Great Britain, and the 
one which inspired Robert Burns with a 
poem. Inverness, the capital of the 
Highlands, is a well-built modern town, 
prosperous and canny. Near it is the 
battle-field of Culloden. where the house 
of Stuart met its final ruin nearly a cen- 
tury and a half ago; and a lover of 
Shakespeare can make an excursion to 
Cawdor Castle, a noble specimen of the 
old baronial strongholds of the north. 

Landed proprietors in Scotland fully 
appreciate their privileges, and lease the 
temporary enjoyment of them for enor- 
mous sums. Millais, the painter, and 
other artistic celebrities lease fishing 
and hunting grounds for sums which 
would be thought ruinously extravagant 
in America. John Millais is very fond 
of painting in the Scotch Highlands, 
working energetically out of doors in 
rain or sunshine every day for months 
together, lovingly studying (hat nature 
which he knows so well how to repro- 
duce. The Queen, if is said, enjoys no 
portion of her year so much as that spent 
at Balmoral Castle, between Ballater and 
Braemar. All through this region the 



650 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

scenery is wildly picturesque. Prince A southward journey from Glasgow 
Alberl speedily fell in love with it, and through the Frith of Clyde and across 
there bought a handsome property, which the North channel brings the traveller 
to-day comprises ten thousand acres of in a single night from Glasgow to Belfast, 
clearing, with more than thirty thousand Scotland and [reland have not much in 
of deer forest. In this secluded retreat common, but the sturdy Scotch-Irish 
the Queen receives only a few persons character produced by the intercourse 
belonging to the Court and those semi- and crossing of the two races in southern 
weekly messengers who brine' from Lou- Scotland and northern Ireland is one of 
don the constantly accumulating massof the brightest composite elements of 
papers which the royal hands are obliged American nationality- If all Ireland 
to sign. could be permeated with the hard corn- 
Stirling, with its noble ancient castle, mon-sense of Scotland, and if all Seot- 
whieh in 1304 resisted the battering of land could receive a diffusion of the gen- 
all the besieging instruments brought erosity of the Irish nature, both countries 
from the Tower of London: with its would be supremely benefited. In north- 
monument to Bruce, its historic Towu ern Ireland there is all the stir and ac- 
lloiise. and the Old Ridge, where the tivity of the energetic Scotch. 
Scots under Wallace defeated the Eng- Belfast, handsome and industrious, 
lish ; Dunblane and Bannockburn, the seated on its pretty slopes on River 
ruins of Linlithgow Palace, in the castle Logan, just before it Hows into the lake, 
of which Queen Mary hhs born — are is a strange contrast, to the shiftless 
all worthy of attention. Nobly situated towns of the south. The pushing Prot- 
Perth, with its Roman memories, its estant merchants of Belfast are the 
palace, in which the Scottish kings were envy of the lazier ami less ambitious 
Crowned, and its quaint church of St. commercial men of Dublin and of the 
John, where John Knox used to preach ; southward towns. Belfast grows with 
Dundee, mi the banks of the Tay. with almost American quickness. It adds 
its greal ranee of docks covering more twenty or thirty thousand to its popula- 
tion thirty acres; and Aberdeen, on the tion every ten years. "This great and 
Dee. with its great lines of masts ex- flourishing city," says a local writer. 
tending for miles, and its old brig of "with all its houses and inhabitants, 
Balgownie, celebrated by Byron in Don stands on the territory of one proprietor, 
Juan. — all oiler ample inducement to the the Marquis of Donegal, to whom the 
.student and the tourist. Both Scotland whole town belongs, and to whom the 
and Spain have an extra European flavor citizens pay tribute." Belfasl was pre- 
which is quite piquant. Both are rugged senteel by James I. to Sir Arthur Chi- 
promontories extending into strange seas. Chester as an insignificant village, and 
Each has a certain wilduess which is would, but for the lone leases granted 
fascinating, each a delightful history and by the former proprietor, have given to 
crowded past, each a certain barrenness the Marquis of Donegal an income of 
contrasted acutely with a perfection of more than £300,000 sterling annually, 
color ami of utility. To get out of mid- The rights and incomes of Scottish land- 
die Europe into either of these countries is lords have Keen greatly reduced in recent 
a side excursion — a run into the bowers times, but. there are many such instances 
— which is exhilarating ami refreshing'. as that of Belfast. The ureal linen fac- 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



<;■>] 



tories contain a bustling and somewhat 
bold number of operatives who, when 
there are burning questions agitated 
between South and North, manifest 
broken heads with the utmost freedom. 
Hundreds of thousands of spindles are 
here employed, even in times of great 
depression in trade. On the river there 
are docks and ship-building establish- 
ments, out of which the great White 
Star fleet, one of the noblest that ploughs 
the ocean, has come. A few miles from 
Belfast is Clandeboye, the country-side 
of the Earl of Dufferin, who has had so 
full and prominent a political career in 
the last twenty years, and who has now, 
in times of trouble fur the Indian Em- 
pire, been called to the high position of 
Viceroy of that great realm. Lord Duf- 
ferin is a consummate politician, and an 
able diplomat, who has been offered ex- 
cellent opportunities to study in Russia 
and in the East those burning questions 
which arc to be fought out on the plains 
of Central Asia, and the settlement of 
which will decide the future of England 
and its Imperial domain. Northward 
from Belfast lead pleasant routes to 
Tort Rush and the Giant's Causeway, to 
ancient ami decaying Dunluce Castle, 
and to a hundred other historic points 
along the doubly indented coast. 

From time to time the English people 
appear to have forgotten that Ireland 
exists, or if they allude to it at all, it is 
in a tone of contemptuous indifference 
or of reproach, because the "Union" 
has not been attended with that harmony 
of sentiment political, religious, and 
social, which ought to be expected of 
fellow-subjects of one sovereign. But 
for the last few years all England has 
had its attention closely called to, and 
even centred upon, Ireland and Irish 
politics. The leading papers of London 
every day have columns filled concerning 



the distress or the agitation prevalent in 
the " Green Isle ; " and the landlords of 
England may now and then have fancied 
they saw the handwriting on the wall, 
when they heard of the ruin of Irish land- 
lords, because of the leagues of the 
peasantry, and their persistent ostracism, 
(which took its name from an ostracized 
person and became "boycotting"), and 
when they saw the energy of the Home 
Rule party fighting its way against dis- 
tress and dislike, but guaranteed a hear- 
ing by that love for fair play which is so 
striking a characteristic in the English 
mind. After the decline of the Fenian 
agitation England had resumed its in- 
difference with regard to Ireland, until 
the upspriuging of the Land Leaguers 
and the creation of "Centres "all over 
Ireland, and the determined uprising of 
the peasantry, in the wild regions where 
they had been content to live with as 
little comfort as the bony swine which 
trotted in and out of their cabins. When 
Mr. Gladstone came into office, after the 
resignation of Lord Beaconsfield, and 
the final retirement of the Conservative 
leader from polities, he found that he 
had inherited a formidable list of Irish 
difficulties, and that the sixty-live Home 
Rulers, who had come into the new 
House of Commons, were determined 
that these difficulties should have ample 
discussion, and settlement if possible. 
Lord Beaconsfield, at the close of his 
political career, issued a political mani- 
festo, 'a letter to the Viceroy of Ireland, 
denouncing the Home Rulers in the 
strongest terms, and declaring the agra- 
rian agitation in that country a danger 
which, in its ultimate results, would be 
scarcely less disastrous than pestilence 
and famine. With the troubles caused 
by the alarm of famine and the outcry 
raised against the demands for no rent 
by the disciples of Mr. Parnell, Mr. 



652 



EUROPE TX STORM AND CALM. 



Gladstone resolutely grappled, and did 
the best that he or any one else could 
have done in the presence of the exact- 
ing and jealous opinion of England. To 
Mr. Parnell's strong character and un- 
consciousness was due the rapid advance 
which he made as to a supreme position. 
His advice to the peasantry to hold the 
land and pay only such rent as they 
deemed fair, and the quickness with 
which this advice was adopted, led to 
the reopening of the Irish land question, 
which we need not follow through its 
varied phases here. The attitude of 
Parliament to Ireland has been one of 
commiseration, mingled with the deepesl 
distrust. The noble gentlemen who have 
endeavored to regulate the affairs of the 
" Emerald Isle " seem to place them- 
selves in the position of admitting that 
the possession of landed property in Ire- 
land needed instant reform, but that it 
was inexpedient to put the reform in 
operation. The period of outrages began 
just so soon as the Land League had de- 
cided that tenants should pay no more 
than the " prairie " value, 25 percent, 
of the value of the letting of ordinary 
land, " when the basis of rating was (ixed 
according to the low standard of agri- 
cultural prices which ruled a generation 
ago." 

The Land League meetings and the 
tremendous agitation which they roused 
throughout the greater part of Ireland 
soon brought about the prosecution for 
seditious conspiracy against Mr. Par- 
nell and other home-rule members, as 
well as the officers of the Laud League. 

England rather hesitated before under- 
taking the statute prosecutions, realizing 
that they would not stop the lawlessness 
in Ireland. Meantime the uprising in 
1880 reached its height, and a veritable 
army was sent to crush down public 
opinion anil compel the Land League to 



retire from its aggressive attitude ; but it 
was found that troops could not prevent 
an indignant population from intimidat- 
ing those who were unpopular in its 
midst. With 1881, when this agrarian 
reign of terror seemed at its height, 
Europe was offered the spectacle of lib- 
eral Mr. Forster moving in the House of 
('ominous the introduction of coercion 
bills ; and then came a great struggle in 
Parliament, first over these bills, and then 
afterward over Mr. Gladstone's long- 
promised Land Bill. Meantime, although 
the coercion bills checked outrage in the 
year of 1881, the Laud League organ- 
ization grew in strength. Tenants re- 
fused to [iay rent, landlords hesitated 
before the process of eviction which 
they had been so quick in old times to 
employ, and by-and-by all Ireland re- 
belled against the Coercion Act with a 
force which fairly startled England out 
of its traditional inertia and indifference 
with regard to Irish affairs. 

The Land Act had become a law, and 
England thought Ireland should lie satis- 
fied with the modifications which it 
brought in regard to the 1 control of 
landed property. Many of the moderate 
Home Rulers had declared in favor of 
this act, and Mr. Parnell himself is said 
to have hesitated before deciding against 
it. Meanwhile the reflex opinion of the 
agitation in America, and the suddeu 
blossoming of the dynamite policy, 
brought matters to a crisis. English 
opinion revolted in presence of the ex- 
aggerated rumors concerning the atro- 
cious means which agitators in America 
and Ireland were said to propose for 
coercing British opinion, .lust at this 
junction Mr. Parnell appeared with his 
new- doctrine, aimed directly at the Land 
Act, and intended to show that justice 
required the reduction of the total rent 
of Ireland from £17,000,000 sterling 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



653 



annually to between £2,000,000 and 
£3,000,000. This England considered 
an imiios.sil.ile standard of " fair rent," 
and English landlords holding land in 
Ireland and native land-owners were 
enraged. Mr. Gladstone called this doc- 
trine of Parnell the "Gospel of Public 
Plunder." Even the Catholic bishops 
were lukewarm in their appreciation 
of it. 

The Land League was now bolder than 
ever; but presently Mr. Parnell, Mr. 
Sexton, Mr. Dillon, Mr. O'Kelly, and 
oilier prominent agitators, were arrested 
under the Coercion Act, and lodged in 
Pill as "suspects." Riots in Dublin 
and Limerick, caused by these arrests, 
were promptly put down, and for the 
time it seemed as if the implacable aver- 
sion of the Land League to all compro- 
mising measures on the part of England 
hail resulted in the destruction of the 
League itself. A proclamation was is- 
sued publicly suppressing the League, 
but at the same time the Land Commis- 
sion was opened, aud applications for 
fixing fair rent began to come in ; but in 
the southern provinces the "no-rent" 
policy was adopted by thousands of 
tenants. What the agitation really did 
secure was the practical reduction of 
rents throughout Ireland. " Iu Ulster, 
Munster, and Connaught," says the 
"Times"of 1881, "rents were generally 
reduced from twenty to thirty per cent., 
and in many cases much more. Tenan- 
cies on old estates where rents had been 
(laid twenty, thirty, or even fifty years 
were as freely handled as new tenancies 
on properties purchased in the Landed 
Estates Court. The landlords were 
struck with dismay, and vehement pro- 
tests were made on their behalf." It is 
odd to notice that when the Land Pill 
was first introduced in Parliament, the 
Ministry thought that no reduction of 



existing rents was possible, and every- 
body said that all the tenants would be 
glad to make friendly regulations with 
their landlords, realizing that if their 
rents went into court they would be 
raised rather than diminished. The 
surprise of the Ministry when it discov- 
ered how times had changed was very 
great. The land agitation, which had 
been kept out of England and Ireland 
by the ■" silvery streak," as our British 
cousins call the Channel, nearly a cen- 
tury after it had been triumphant in 
Fiance, and for more than a generation 
after it had been completed in an aristo- 
cratic country like Hungary, had at last 
crossed the water and begun its work. 
The English say that it did not come by 
the Channel, but went round via America 
and crossed the Atlantic. 

The year 1882 opened with Mr. Par- 
nell still in jail, with the Protection Act 
administered with resolution by Mr. 
Forster, and with theeffectsof the Land 
Act gradually becoming visible. There 
was an invariable reduction of rent 
every day from one-fifth to one-third of 
the previous rentals. Yet the exacting 
tenantry held out in large numbers for 
no rent, kept away from the courts, and 
announced their implacable hostility by 
outrages which wrung cries of horror 
from both England and America. The 
now defunct Land League was working 
in the dark, but denied any connection 
with the perpetrators of the outrages. 

By-and-by Mr. Forster, who was tired 
of hearing himself called opprobrious 
names, resigned his position as Secretary 
for Ireland. The Protection Act was 
abandoned, the Land- Leaguers were re- 
leased, and came back to the House of 
Commons, where they began a tremen- 
dous onslaught on Mr. Forster, who found 
himself in the ticklish position of a 
private citizen defending his late course 



654 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



in a public position. Mr. Gladstone 
appeared with the statement that Mr. 
Parnell seemed willing to help the cause 
of order, and England smiled at what it 
called the Kilmaiuham treaty, or the 
understanding between the Ministry and 
the Land League party. Then came the 
appointment of Lord Spencer as Viceroy 
of Ireland, with the generous and high- 
minded Lord Cavendish as Chief Secre- 
tary ; and, just as the official circles were 
congratulating themselves upon the pa- 
cification of Irish feeling and the absence 
of any need of coercion, the assassination 
of Lord Frederick Cavendish, and the 
under Secretary, Mr. Burke, in Phoenix 
Park, within full sight of the vice-regal 
lodge, was announced. This extraordi- 
nary assassination made a deep impres- 
sion on English feeling, and the better 
classes in Ireland recoiled from any as- 
sociation with such detestable crime. 

There has rarely been a greater out- 
pouring of sympathy than was mani- 
fested when tins second sun of the Duke 
of Devonshire was 1 nought home to be 
buried at the noble country-seat of 
Chatsworth, after his brief career as a 
liberal official desirous of conciliating 
the opinion of what is ironically called 
the "Sister Island." Now came, with 
swift feet, the " Crimes Bill," which all 
parties, with the exception of Mr. Par- 
nell and his disciples, supported. The 
police system in Inland was reorganized ; 
the application of the law was made 
more certain; and although the people 
still worked in the dark, — a presiding 
justice narrowly escaped the attack of 
an assassin ; a juror in an agrarian 
case was stabbed and left for dead, men 
were beaten and mutilated in their 
cabins at night; horses and cattle were 
killed, and houses and farms were 
burned, — still it was thought that the 
peasantry would be won over to the 



cause of order by the Land Act. But 
the Laud League declared that the Eng- 
lish Parliament had failed to conciliate 
Ireland, demanded an enlargement of 
the scope of the Land Act, the control 
of local taxation by Nationalists, and, 
in short, a local economy such as Ire- 
land has never enjoyed. 

The land agitation which had now 
gone on for three or four years in stead- 
ily increasing proportions in Ireland, 
began to have its influence in England. 
Lord Salisbury issued a cry of warning 
in an article called "Disintegration," 
published in one of the reviews. He 
also showed his foreknowledge and fore- 
sight of what was coming by bringing 
forward his views on the " housing of 
the poor." At the same time Mr. 
Chamberlain had come into Parliament 
by a vigorous attack on the land-owning 
classes, on whom he threw the duty of 
removing all the dwellings unlit for hab- 
itation, and replacing them by good, 
substantial houses. Next came the doc- 
trine of land nationalization, — the out- 
growth of the agitation of Mr. Henry 
George, in America ; and throughout 
1883 English laud-owners were as busy 
with questions directly affecting their 
own interests as they had been two 
years before with those affecting only 
the Irish land-owner. The law weighed 
heavily upon Ireland all through 1883. 
The formation of the National League 
at the close of 1882 was understood as 
the old Land League under thin dis- 
guise, and it was observed that the 
speakers at the meetings of the National 
League were all chiefs of the Separatist 
party. 

The conspirators known as "The 
Invineibles," who had planned and 
carried out the assassination in Phcenix 
Park, the murder of the man who had 
informed against The Invineibles, and 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



655 



the conspiracies for the use of dynamite 
in London, Birmingham, and Glasgow, 
enraged the English, and the outcome of 
four busy years of parliamentary tinker- 
ing seemed to have resulted only in the 
triumph of the peasantover the landlord, 
and an increased determination of the 



and Scotland. Innocent travellers 
coming from the continent were sub- 
jected to all the rigors which alarmed 
customs officials could invent. An Al- 
pine hat or an American accent was suf- 
ficient to subject tin 1 wanderer to careful 
watching by the police ; and such explo- 




A LAND-LEAGUE MASS-MEETING. 



Home Rule party to pursue its policy 
regardless of difficulties and opposition. 
The Separatists had received a severe 
shock at the time of the conspiracy dis- 
closures, but in 1884 recovered, and 
assailed the Executive in Dublin with all 
their force, and by means which were 
scarcely creditable to their frankness or 
sincerity. The dynamite party became 
so aggressive in its bearing that its ex- 
ploits created a veritable panic in England 



sions as occurred at Victoria station, at 
St. James square, Scotland yard, Lon- 
don Bridge, and, finally, at Westminster 
and the Tower of London, so shocked 
and enraged the public that it was un- 
willing to hear of any conciliatory meas- 
ures with regard to Ireland. But events 
in which the honor, and even the very ex- 
istence, of Imperial Britain are connected 
have compelled a certain modification of 
tone, even of sentiment, and the Heir- 



65(5 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



Apparent to the throne finds it not ineon- 
nt with his dignity to hold court in 
Dublin, and to make a long journey 
through the disaffected districts. 

The Laud League agitation, and the 
meetings and gatherings of thi - ntry 

when this agitation was at its In • i _ I 
were some of the most curious features 
of tin- revolution gradually being accom- 



peared, bearing green banners and 
r national emblems, and leading 
essions of men. women, and chil- 
dren, who were to listen to the speakers 

-- mbled at a cottage just rebuilt by 
the Land-Leaguers after it had 
torn down to render practicable the 
eviction of a tenant who refused to 
pay rent. This was one of the most 



m 




*;~y 



plished in the •• Emerald Isle.'" I n 
an excursion into Ireland short! 

fess ' _ nizatiou and 

the arrest of its principal members. 
1 i Galway for mil - j the 

road which I took on my way to a 
Land-League mass-meeting, tin- fields 
een lying fallow for many years: 
hundreds of cabins were - and 

unroofed, and dozens were 

than 
At every <- 
on this rai:. Sut rs ap- 



A FAMILIAR HUSH 
XK. 



daring things which had been done in 
Ireland. The defiance of the law was 
patent, and I was not a little surpi ■ 

arish priest at the head of 
movement. Arriving on a bleak 
hill overlooking Lough Corrib, where the 
_ was to be held. I was met by 
the priest, who introduced me to a num- 
ber of country squires, ami to certain 
pale-faced agitators who had come up 
ressly from the Irish cities to help on 
the movement. 

A few hundred yards from this e 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



657 



which was the visible expression of the 
Land League's resistnnee to the law, 
three or four hundred soldiers of the 
" Constabulary," as it is called in Ire- 
laud, were drawn up in military array, 
and a smart young officer, approaching 
the priest, touched bis hat courteously 
and announced that he should detail two 
of his men to protect the government 
reporter. " Bring him on," said the 
[uiest, " but don't let the hoys get at 
him. I would not answer for him this 
day." So presently the government 
stenographer, on whose report was to 
he based any prosecutions which mighl 
ensue for treasonable language, was 
brought up under guard and seated at the 
hustings. Then arose a yellof execration 
from the crowd, which now numbered 
two or three thousand people, and which 
was soon to be reinforced by long 
lines of peasantry whom we could sec 
miles away, marching around I he end of 
the lake. At the head of one of these 
processions fluttered an American Hag. 
home by a stalwart farmer. Some of 
tin- peasants carried wooden swords and 
pikes, artistically stained with red. sup- 
posed to imitate the Saxon gore which « :is 
some day to be spilled. Numbers of the 
patriots had imbibed spirituous fluids to 
counteract the omnipresent moisture ; and 
now and then an ardent defender of the 
Irish cause questioned my presence and 
my identity, with the addition of epithets 
not altogether agreeable. One inflamma- 
ble gentleman, who had recently returned 
from the United States, informed me, 
while I was on the hustings some 
twenty feet from the ground, that 
I might lie a Saxon reporter, and that if 
it were found to In- so he would have me 
handed down. The parish priest, how- 
ever, took this gentleman to task for 
having begun his festivities too early in 
the day, and threatened him with the 



waters of Lough Corrib if he was rude 

to the stranger. 

The scene was wild ; tile tierce faces 
of the peasantry, — faces thin with 
want, and flushed with an angry pleasure 
as they heard the government assailed, 
— as they heard stories of tyranny, and 
incentives to rebellion catalogued and 
recited, were wilder still. This was the 
beginning of revolution likely to go far, 
and do much damage, if not checked by 
artful legislation. Even the gentlemanly 
and courteous priest forgot his mildness 
when he addressed the people. 

The greatest demands of Mr. 1'arnell 
and his followers were thought mild and 
insufficient by this throng of laborers 
who had never until recent years dreamed 
that they could rebel against the land- 
lord. Now this thought was uppermost 
in their minds: [low can we dispense 
with the landlord altogether? How can 
we become ourselves possessors of the 
soil? I thought that in the frequent 
appeals of the priest to the people to 
remain within the letter of the law there 
was a mild satiric flavor. His eye 
twinkled when he had finished his ad- 
dies-,; and the cries and curses which 
rose from his hearers when the name of 
any unpopular landed proprietor or 
official was mentioned appeared to give 
the good man positive pleasure 

As 1 drove home on the jaunting-car 
that, night, under the Hitting moonlight, 
and over the roads wet and soggy with 
the protracted rain, I came from time 
to time upon sentinels posted at cross- 
roads, and now and then dark figures 
rose up cautiously from behind the walls 
or hedges, and disappeared, as if satis- 
lied that the passer-by was a neutral. 

and was not to he molested. 1 confess 

that had 1 been a land-owner of the 
neighborhood I should not have ridden 
home alone and unarmed that night. 



658 EUROPE IN STORM A.\/> CALM. 



CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE. 

Dublin and its Chief Features. — The Irish Climate. — Trinity College. —The Environs of the Irish 
Capital. — The Great Western Gateways, — Queenstown and Liverpool. 



lne- 



ff^IIE Irish are justly proud of their the climate is trying, variable, and so 

-L capital, which is in no wise inferior what exhausting. 

in tlic beauty of its streets and the ele- The long streets are shrouded in 
gance of its shops to London or other fog, and the barren slums, with their 
large towns in England. There are a picturesque and motley population of 
few picturesque hits in the city proper infirm old men and women (and where 
on the hanks of the River Liffey, which are there such old men and old women 
divides the town into two nearly equal as in Ireland ?) are pitiable enough. The 
parts, — eastward into the noble bay on beggars are numerous and aggressive. 
one side, on which is the famous hill of They bless and curse with equal volubil- 
Howth ; and on the other, Killiney hill. ity. The gift of sixpence is sufficient to 
Around the great Custom-House always draw down blessings for a twelvemonth 
cluster flocks of vessels, and one would upon the giver's head. The soldier, red- 
scareely fancy, while looking at the com- jacketed, smartly groomed and attired, is 
mercial head-quarters of Ireland, that the seen on every corner. England keeps a 
country is cursed with poverty, ami that formidable garrison, nearly thirty thou- 
its manufactures as well as its agriculture sand strong, in Ireland, and will not 
are in an almost prostrate condition. withdraw it. even in the face of most 
June is the time to visit Dublin — Tune, pressing needs outside, until the with- 
with its bright sunshine, interspersed drawal is imperative. The Castle, as it 
with sudden showers (it rains in Ireland is called, where the lord-lieutenant or 
every day), and with its splendor of the viceroy . as he is somewhat bombas- 
vcrdure and blossom on the neighboring tically denominated, holds his court and 
mountains. In the midsummer season has his official residence, is not quite so 
it is broad daylight until almost ten imposing as the Castle of Edinburgh, but 
o'clock in this far northward city, and is said to have been in former times a 
daylight comes again after but three, or. noteworthy structure. 
at most, three and one-half, hours of One chief room is the vice-regal 
darkness. Visiting Dublin some years chapel, where the lord lieutenant and 
ago, on the occasion of an international his family attend divine service. This 
festival, and being nightly called to chapel has a curious feature in the 
attend some banquet or prolonged social shape of sculptured heads on the win- 
festivity. I had, in a period of three dows ami doors, like those around the 
weeks. ight : it all. for when I went Place Venddme in Paris. The vice- 
to my engagement it was still light regal apartments contain an ornamental 
enough to read a newspaper in the hall, with a throne richly embroidered 
streets, and when I went home to rest it with gold, where, on the ran' occasions 
had long been bright daylight. In winter when royalty condescends to visit the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



659 



sister island, levees and crushes are 
held. The ball-room, known as St. 
Patrick's Chapel, the Council Chamber, 
and the magnificently furnished drawing- 
room, are the only very interesting 
things. There are two kinds of society 
in Dublin, whiclf for the stranger may 
be well enough classified as the loyal 
and the national. Around the lord 
lieutenant is a formidable group of the 
resident Protestant English and Protes- 
tant Irish, of the more important land- 
owners of both nationalities, the official 
world, the magistrates, ami placemen of 
all kinds. The Nationalists arc not so 
strong, but profess to have a more brill- 
iant social organization. Royalty, how- 
ever, draws them strangely near together, 
as it has done in the recent visit of the 
Prince of Wales. The lower classes, 
turbulent and irreconcilable, watch with 
jealous eye the conduct of their city offi- 
cials, and if any one from the Lord 
Mayor of Dublin down dares to curry 
favor with English loyalty or English 
opinion he is signalled for vexations 
innumerable. 

Of the exterior features of Dublin 
none is more striking than Trinity Col- 
lege, which stands in College Green, 
directly opposite the old Bank of Ireland. 
This college, which was founded under 
a bull obtained from Pope John XXII., 
was closed in the time of Henry VIII., 
but was opened again in the reign of 
Elizabeth, who made it a corporation in 
the name of the "College of the Holy 
and Indissoluble Trinity." Within and 
without it is rich with works of art of 
highly respectable character. Portraits 
of Dean Swift, Bishop Berkeley, Arch- 
bishop King, Lord Oriel, Professor Bald- 
win, Grattan, and Frederick, Prince of 
Wales, ornament the halls. In front of 
the college are statues of Oliver Gold- 
smith and of William III. The dinner 



in the grand hall of the Refectory, with 
the officials of the college in their robes, 
and with the singularly pleasing arrange- 
ment of toasts and musical responses, 
is one of the most novel features of 
European social life. The uproarious 
demonstrations of the students of Trinity 
occasionally disturb the decorum of 
Dublin, the Celtic student apparently 
considering it his privilege in Ireland, as 
in France, to make himself disagreeable 
to the government and to his neighbors 
upon the most trivial provocation. 

The Bank of Ireland is the Old Par- 
liament House, in which, 1 suppose. Mr. 
Parnell and his followers would like to 
install their Home Pule Parliament by- 
and-by- The old House of Commons is 
now the cash office of the bank, and the 
House of Lords is still left as it was in 
the times when Ireland had a Parlia- 
ment, save that the site of the throne is 
occupied by a statue of George III. 
The dilapidated tapestries on the wall 
represent King William crossing the 
Boyne, and the Siege of Derry. Under 
the (lavement of the cathedral of St. 
Patrick lie the mortal remains of 
Dean Swift and Esther Johnson, who 
was the " Stella" of his poetry. Swift 
was once dean of this cathedral, which 
was restored about twenty-five years 
ago by a celebrated Dublin brewer, 
who expended more than £100,000 
upon it. The Nelson Monument, raised 
by the Irish admirers of the hero of 
Trafalgar, and the Wellington Testimo- 
nial, erected by Wellington's townsmen. 
are objects of interest. The Military 
Hospital, the Carlisle bridge, the Na- 
tional Gallery of Ireland, and the Royal 
Hibernian Academy, ate the chief public 
building's. 

The admirer of the great O'Connell 
may renew his souvenirs of that tre- 
mendous orator by a visit to Conciliation 



GOO 



EUROPE TN STt'liM AND CALM. 



Hall, when' O'Connell achieved some of 
his greatest triumphs. The gilded harp 
and the shamrock of Ireland are still 
preserved "ii the ceiling of lliis hall, but 
a corn-merchant now occupies the prem- 
ises. In Glasneviu Cemetery is the tomb 
of O'Connell, a granite round town- one 
hundred and sixty feet high; and there, 
too, reposes the illustrious Curran. <»n 
Stephens Green, a pretty square with 
clusters of trees and shrubs, surrounded 
on all sides with the handsomest man- 
sions in the town, is the Royal College 
of Surgeons, with a museum, a statue 
of George II., and an industrial 
museum of very creditable character. 
Stephens Green is the scene of many 
of the Nationalists' manifestations, but 
it is in Phoenix Park that the population 
of Dublin loves best to manifest. This 
[>ark covering an area of more than 
seventeen thousand acres, is very beau- 
ful, and is often a scene of grand mili- 
tary reviews when England desires to 
show her strength to her Irish neigh- 
bors. The immediate vicinity of Dublin 
is of rare and exquisite beauty. Kings- 
town harbor — the port of Dublin — is 
pretty ; and the fashionable resort of 1 >al- 
key, where the old Dublin merchants of 
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries 
preferred having their goods landed lather 
than allow (heir ships to venture into the 
bay and attempt the passage of the 
Liffey, is a pretty suburb. Powers- 
court, one of the few Irish estates 
whose landlord was always popular with 
his tenants, is an admirable specimen of 
an Irish country residence. The great 
baronial mansion, in the midst of delight- 
ful scenery, contains a vast parlor, where 
George IV. was entertained when he vis- 
ited Ireland in 1821; and the Glen, 
through which the Dargle Hows, is one 
of the most romantic in Ireland. The 
charms of the Wicklow mountains, of 



the Headland of Bray, the Devil's (den, 

the Seven Churches, and the Vale of 
A \ oca have so often been celebrated in 
both prose anil verse that there is little 
new to say about them here. The stran- 
ger who abides for some lime within the 
gates of Dublin will lit' sure to hear a 
fair Irish maiden singing, with the deli- 
cate lisp and the clearness of enunciation 
which characterize the English spoken 
in the Irish capital, Moore's pretty ballad 
aboul the Avoea, which begins thus ■ — 

" There is t ■> it in the wide world a valley so 
sweet 
As the vale in whose bosom the bright waters 

meet. 

Oh! the last rays of feeling and life must 

depart 
Ere the hie if thai valley shall fade from 

iny heart." 

At all concerts and musical festivals 
given at Dublin the national poetry is 
brought out in strong relief, and always 
awakens a storm of enthusiasm. The 
south of Ireland is a pretty country, 
rich in legend and romance, and in 
varied scenery, which, while it never 
approaches the grand and bold, is emi- 
nently satisfactory and sometimes be- 
witching. The old seat of Waterford, 
and the town with its church about 
which Father Prout wrote, — 

" The bells of Shandon, 
That sound so grand on 
The pleasant waters of the River Lee; " 

the cove of Cork, or Queenstown, with 
its majestic harbor.- — ample enough to 
contain all the navies of the world, 
Blarney, Youghal and the Black Water, 
Killarney and the lakes, the Gap of Dun- 
loe and the Black Valley, Loch Lean, In- 
nisfallen, Muckross Abbeyand the Peaks. 
I'landon, Glengariff, and Bantry, — all 
these embrace a. curious mixture of wild- 



EUROPE IN storm AND CALM. 



urn 



H 

a 



- 

a 
o 








■ 




6f>2 EUROPE IX STURM AM) CALM. 

uess and of gentle beauty. The great London, — and thai it brings in nearly 
cliffs, the lofty blue crags, and the high- two million and a half of cotton bales 
lands, which break into the vast expanse from America and from India every Year 
of the Atlantic, are beautiful under the to be worked up in the great factories 
summer sun, bul in Hie mists and winds in twenty cities not far away. The 
of winter are forbidding and desolate, stately St. George's Hall, the palatial 
(tueenstowu is oneof the greal gate- business structures on Water street, the 
ways out of Europe to America, and the statues of the Prince Consort and Queen 
harbor is always alive with the enormous Victoria, the Wellington Monument, the 
steamers crawling across the greenish- Foreign Exchange, the Mausoleum of 
blue waves, with the sprightly tugs and Huskisson, the huge docks of Lairds. 
tenders transporting passengers to and covering five hundred acres on the 
from the ocean arks, and with meil-of- Birkenhead side of the Mersey, — are 
war, which drop in casually, as if to say the chief features of Liverpool. 
to Ireland, " Be tranquil." The city has its slums, into which one 
There is constant commercial inter- is obliged to stray with care if he wishes 
course between Dublin and Liverpool, — to come out alive. There is within five 
the great western gateway of Great minutes' walk- of the principal corn- 
Britain, — Liver] I which has grown mercial avenues a labyrinth of streets 

rich and prosperous out of the American and alley-ways containing more misery 
trade, and, for that matter, out of the trade and tilth and abject wretchedness than 
of every country under the sun. Here the can lie found in any other European 
finest docks in the world would be vastly city. The Liverpool Irish arejusth de- 
imposing if one could have an atmosphere nominated the most degraded people in 
for the space of a single day in which the kingdom, and around them and their 
to visit them. Liverpool was a little scarcely less wretched and vicious 
hamlet three hundred years ago; to-day English fellows there is a fringe of 
its population is a little more than half cosmopolitan vice and want, an inter- 
a million, and it i* said there are always national tangle of ignorance and poverty, 
at least thirty thousand sailors prome- a population which scarcely seems to 
nading its vast quays. It is a proud city, have souls, and which veritably seems 
proud of its wealth, proud even of its beyond the reach of redemption. One- 
cliiuate, which it fiercely defends as in third of the trade of Liverpool is with 
nowise objectionable ; proud of its great America. The Liverpool merchant is 
River Mersey, with its stone banks, of the a cultivated man. with no prejudices; 
fleets of ships and steamers which come the breadth of the broad sea.s in his 
in and go out in hundreds daily: proud character; he is generous, quick, and 
of the fact that it has at least two-thirds energetic, and enjoys his fortune as in- 
of the whole shipping of Great Britain telliaently and modestly as any landed 
anil one-tenth of her foreign trade. — proprietor. 
half as much trade as the great port of 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



663 



CI I A ITER SEVENTY-SIX. 

Lord Beaconsfiekl. -Mr. Gladstone. Two < lareers Entirely Different in ( lharacter, Purpose, and Result. 
— Personal Description of the two < ir«-:it Premiers. — Imperial Policy. — The Eastern Question in 
L875. — Mr. Gladstone's Attitude.— The Slavs of the South. — Servia, Herzegovina, Bosnia, 
and Montenegro. 



I am overwhelmed," were the words of 
the dying Beacor.sfield, as be rinsed 
his long and agitated career, twelve 
months after he had surrendered liis 
premiership, in the tranquil retreat of 
Hughenden; and it then seemed as if in 
his words there was all the sadness of a 
prophetic confession. The Imperial policy 
which he had inaugurated with such 
dazzling audacity, and conducted with 
such dexterous, although somewhat sinis- 
ter, skill, had received so many severe 
cheeks, had brought upon the realm of 
Britain so many disasters, that the Eng- 
lish people were right in questioning 
whether it were wise that it should be 
prosecuted to its logical conclusions. 

Ail English premier takes his defeat as 
he takes his accession to office, with pro- 
found philosophy: for he knows that the 
people quickly return upon any judgment 
which they have found erroneous, or which 
they think erroneous, and that the lease 
of power is not very permanent. Just 
as in the autumn of 1873 the people 
showed that they were becoming nervous 
with regard to the reforming zeal of 
the ministry, and that they wished to 
give it a cheek, so, in 1880, after Mr. 
Gladstone's tremendous Midlothian cam- 
paign, the people began to waver in 
their devotion to the brilliant policy 
which had seduced them by its promise 
of glory and of fortune. Mr. Gladstone 
was a severe and an uncompromising 
critic of Lord Beaconsfield's administra- 



tion, lie said that the premier's policy 
of ''Empire and Liberty" had simply 
nieant denying to others the rights that 
England claimed for herself. He pointed 
lo the disasters in Afghanistan ; to the 
fact that India •• had not advanced, hat 
was thrown back in government, sub- 
jected to heavy ami unjust charges, sub- 
jected to what might also be termed, in 
comparison with the government of for- 
mer years, a singular oppression ; at home 
the law broken, ami the rights of Parlia- 
ment invaded." It was in vain that 
Beaconsfield, who had so lately been the 

adored of the London populace, the dar- 
ling of the eyes of the Conservative 
dowagers, anil the hero as much in White- 
chape! as in Belgravia and Mayfair, — 
in both of which widely separated sections 
he was considered as a new champion of 
England, who was to revive the ancient 
prestige of the island kingdom, and 
reduce to a sense of their relative un- 
importance the ambitions powers of the 
North, as he was popularly supposed by 
his English admirers to have done at the 
Berlin Congress, — it was in vain that he 
struck back against his resolute adver- 
sary, that he referred to the attempts made 
to sever the constitutional tie between 
England and Ireland, ami issued his fa- 
mous proclamation calling on " all men 
of light and leading" to resist this de- 
structive doctrine. It was in vain that 
he accused the Liberal party of attempt- 
ing, and failing, to enfeeble the English 



664 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

colonies by their policy of decomposition ; tiou of independent States. But the 
in vain that he cried out that he had policy of intrigue and of petty vexations, 
long previously recognized in the dis- the policy of attempting to check the 
integration of the United Kingdom a Russian hear hy scattering bits of orange- 
mode which would not only accomplish peel in his path, had been adopted in- 
but precipitate that purpose ; in vain that stead of the bold and straightforward 
he persisted in his statement that peace plan which England might have adopted ; 
rested on the presence, not to say the and were Lord Beaconsfield alive to-day 
ascendency of England in the councils of to sec the natural outcome of his policy, 

Europe. The impression grew that the so far as it was carried forward, he 

Conservative Ministry, which had been might again say, as he said with his 
in power from 1874, had not only caused latest breath, " 1 am overwhelmed." 
a veritable and lamentable interregnum Mr. Benjamin Disraeli, who rose to 
in the great progress of reform at home, lie Lord Beaconsfield, and Mr. William 
but had weakened the Empire by need- Ewart Gladstone, who might lone ago 
less wars abroad, and that its clandes- have been seated in the House of Lords 
tine acquisition of the Island of Cyprus if he would have listened to proposals 
had brought upon it the gravesl criti- for his elevation, have so long been 
cisnis. Although the proudest moment familiar ami imposing figures on the 
of Keaeonslield's life was the moment of stage of English politics, and in inter- 
his entrance into the House of Lords, on national politics generally, that little 
his return from the Berlin Congress, still new can be said of them here. Both 
not even the fallen Premier himself could these distinguished men had attained in 
conscientiously assert that he had by his London and in Europe that eminence 
support of this treaty gained anything which attaches to a long continuance of 
for his famous Imperial policy. He power, to frequent returns to its oxer- 
could not have believed that the barrier cise, and to indisputable authority and 
of the Balkans could permanently sepa- skill in the management of men. Each 

rate the two halves of the new Bulgarian represented a special and peculiar scl I 

nation ; that they could remain Ll similar of English thought ; yet each has always 
in race, in religion, in memories, the had throughout his career a marked in- 
one free, the other still enslaved ; ' nor dividuality which seemed to distinguish 
that Kussia would be permanently him from the mass of Englishmen. Lord 
checked in her advance on Constanti- Beaconsfield was perhaps — and partieu- 
nople by the measures which a few larly from 1874 to his downfall — more 
diplomats seated round a tabic covered strictly popular than Hit: Gladstone. It 
with green cloth chose to imagine as is certain, however, that he stood upon 
obstacles to that progress from north to a lower level, and that nearly every one 
south which all history tells us is neces- who professed for him such passionate 

sarv and vital, and which is as resistless admiration knew that he st 1 upon a 

as an inundation. lower level ; hut there was a glamour 

Mr. Gladstone hail always pointed out about him and all his works, an accent 

that the great barrier to a. b'usshin ad- of sincerity in his speeches, even when 

vauce on Constantinople was flic crea- they supported the shiftiest of pretexts 

or the most fallacious of positions, which 

'O'Connor's Life of Lord Beaconsfield. lulled to rest any outcropping suspi- 



EUROPE IN STORM AM) CALM. 



665 



cions. Beaconsfield bad worked himself 
up from u very humble position to thai 
which ho had coveted in his youth, and 
which he had boldly asserted lie would 
get. He had conquered prejudice, had 
almost conquered rate. He had that 
profound belief in himself which carries 
men over the most difficult obstacles, and 
finally deludes them into the conviction 
that they arc all-powerful before it al- 
lows them to be tripped up and to be 
beaten on the scene of action. 

Mr. Gladstone had not been obliged 
to toil up from the lowest place, but had 
stepped with easy grace at an early age 
into the career for which he had such 
consummate fitness. lie had inherited 
a handsome fortune, which allowed him 
to devote his entire energies to the 
public service; bad a wonderful talent 
for finance, a thorough business apti- 
tude, an abiding , classical education, 
a fervent religious spirit, and a sen- 
sitive conscience, — too sensitive per- 
haps for modern English polities, with 
its expedients, its trickeries, its anxi- 
eties, and its dangers. One of his 
biographers has said of him that u he 
unites cotton with culture. Manchester 
with Oxford, the deep classical joy over 
tlii' Italian resurrection and Greek inde- 
pendence with the deep English interest 
in the amount of duty on Zante raisins 
and Italian rags." He was already a 
prominent politician when the first Reform 
Bill was brought forward, in 1832, and 
fifty years afterward his voice was heard 
more powerfully than that of any other 
in the English Parliament in advocating 
the completion of the reform which, 
while its progress has been so slow, 
has been so very thorough. Lord Bea- 
consfield, in his youth, when he wished to 
make his maiden speech in the House 
of Commons, had been thoroughly 
laughed at. but hail turned upon his 



tormentors, and in terrible tones had 
informed them that the lime would come 
when they would hear him. Mr. Glad- 
stone had made his Parliamentary dibvt 
without melodramatic effect, at once 
commanding the respect and attention 
of all his fellow-members. His very 
first speeches in Parliament were in con- 
nection with the liberation of slaves, 




LORD BE M iONSFIELD. 
From Photograph by London Stereoscopic Co, 

and forty years afterward he was vigor- 
ous and earnest as when a youth in 
demanding the freedom from oppression 
of the Christians in the East. Mr. 
Disraeli seems to have considered litera- 
ture as one of the intellectual dissipa- 
tions of his youth. In it he exhaled 
the fiery enthusiasms of his soul, em- 
bodied in correct anil facile prose the 
dreams of the career which was before 
him, foreshadowed many of his attempts 
and aims, betrayed many of the weak- 
nesses and follies of his nature, and 



6fi() EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 

indicated as clearly as could have been party into it. he will open his mouth and 
indicated !>y an ethnologist all the prej- speak the truth. No sneer of foreign 
udices, fancies and hatreds entailed cabinets, or threat of enemies, or danger 
1 1 1 >< >i i him by his race. In his books of mobs ;it home, will prevent him from 
may be found the Semitic contempt for deserting the Soudan, and from saying 
Christian civilization, the Jewish eager- the full truth about South Africa. If 
ness t'> control and lead the Christian ; he felt that England, in order to main- 
and, in all matters of Eastern policy, the tain her position as a first-class power, 
Jewish unwillingness to aid the Chris- were fated to carry out, at all risks and 
thin to resume the place actually his, hazards, an Imperial policy, which would 
but usurped by the barbarian. also be a policy of greed and of plunder, 
Mr. Gladstone, while he had not had and interference with other pe< pie's 
so glittering a literary distinction as his rights, he would not sanction that policy 
great antagonist in his youth, has made for any consideration whatsoever, 
literature in its higher form the delight Lord Beaeonsfield might have been 
of his middle life and his declining laid in Westminster Abbey had it not 
years. His mildest literary recreation is been for the strict instructions in his 
the enthusiastic study of Homer and the will that he was to be bin ied in Hughen- 
Homeric age. He is one of the few den, beside the wife whom he so tenderly 
Englishmen who thoroughly comprehend loved, and who had done so much for 
the Greek mind, ancient and modern, the upbuilding of his career. He some- 
lie has never allowed his position as Eng- times said, with profound emotion, that 
lish statesman to interfere with the care- to his wife he owed everything. Doubt- 
ful, non-prejudiced study of continental less there were moments in his existence 
politics from stand-points not entirely when he would have given up the 
English. Reformer and agitator by struggle, and relapsed into deep indif- 
instinct, he is moderate in language, ference, had it not been for her unfailing 
and his consideration for his opponents support and counsel. Mr. Gladstone 
is proverbial. Ilis patience in the pies- wasthefirst to propose that the deceased 
once of great difficulties is unlimited; Premier should have the honors of a 
his disregard of public clamor when he public funeral in Westminster Abbey : 
thinks ii ill-founded may be carried but it was not to be. The Great Coin- 
very far; he is not the man to resign in nioner, the Grand Old Man. as he is 
a passion, nor until he feels that the lovingly called by his admirers and 
whole majority of his party, to the last scornfully spoken of by his enemies, 
man, has given up the situation. lie is thepeople's William, the ardent supporter 
content with the progress of each day; of Liberalism in aristocratic and con- 
he does not threaten or prophesy, — he servative England, will undoubtedly be 
works; he is ready for crises, because laid beneath the stones of the ancient 
he always foresees them ; he knows the Abbey, to rest in the noble company 
value of a penny, and never fails to in- near whose shrines he has spent so many 
sist upon it ; but he does not hesitate lone' years of activity in tin' Parliament 
to ask enormous sums when the honor House. Westminster, the epitome and 
and dignity of England are threatened, crowning glory of England, must act 
If he thinks a war unjust, even though now and then as an inspiration to public 
he may have been pushed by his own men as they pass to and fro beneath its 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



667 




GLADSTONE. 
From Photograph by Elliott A Try. London. 



shadows ; for to be placed there is higher Canning, Grattan, and Wilberforce is 
honor than to be put in the House of an appropriate resting-place for Glad- 
Lords during lifetime; and for that stone. 

matter the Abbey is likely to be the chief It is related of John Bright that, 

of London's monuments many centuries being in the lobby of Parliament one 

after the House of Lords has been but a day, he was approached by a lady of 

tradition. The pavement which shrouds his acquaintance, who had brought her 

Chatham, Pitt, Fox. Castlereagh, two little boys to sec the political celeb- 



668 EURorE i.v storm and calm. 

riiiis, ami who remarked that (Mad- to the poet- laureate and to the favorite 

stone was not present, and that she did actor. Gladstone's lustrous eyes, a.s 

nut regret it. as she had but small ad- piercing and magnetic as they were wiien 

miration for him, repeating numerous he was thirty, were unusually brilliant on 

reasons as to why she did not like his that occasion ; and, as he sat in his com- 

public record. " Madam." said tin' tollable box, surrounded by bis family, 

great orator, assuming bis most, impos- he presented the finished typeof a culti- 

ing mien, "when yon have an oppor- vated, accomplished, and successful Eng- 

tunity to see Mr. Gladstone here, bring lish gentleman, than which no aristo- 

your two boys with yon, and when cratic family could furnish a liner. lie 

you have been told which is Mr. Clad- was the sublimated man of the people, 

stone, point liini out to these children, the best outcome of the sturdy strength 

and say to them, 'There is the greatest of England 

Englishman of all England,' and you All politicians have something of the 
will say the truth." comedian in (heir composition. Thev 
Both Beaconsfield and Gladstone have know bow to make their entries and their 
always been fond of promenades in Lon- sorties with skill; and Lord Beaconsfield 
don town, so that they are well known excelled in this theatrical quality. His 
to the citizens. Gladstone is the most curl became historic. A pet phrase, 
unceremonious of mortals, and when be delivered with a peculiar gesture, made 
lived in Hurley street, some years ago, its impression and went into history. A 
used to walk, in all weathers, down to consummate dandy in bis youth, be had 
Parliament House, wrapped up in bis something of dandyism in bis old age. 
big, high, rough overcoat, and with bis A frock-coat may have its eloquence as 
thick leather leggings, looking something much as a, spoken word. The indiscreet 
like a country squire who had just arrived gaudiness of the Hebrew was left aside 
at Kuston station. Yet, despite the affec- after he reached maturer years, to reap- 
talion of rusticity, the love for felling pear only now and then in one of his 
trees, or long walks and rides in the speeches, written under strong excite- 
country, and his .simplicity of dress and incut. In 1*78 Mr. Lacey, the able 
demeanor, he knows bow, when it is author of the new " Diary of Two Par- 
proper, to maintain the utmost elegance liaments," wrote thus about Lord Bea- 
aml dignity of manner. In these latter consfield : — 

years of bis premiership, when be ( us 

to the evening .if a great speech, there Strangers may now occasionally meet in the 

are evidences of careful attention to Ins neighborhood of Parliament street a notable 

dress. He has a fresh coat, and a flower fi S ure making its way through the throng. 

in the button-hole, or is in irreproachable They """' '"'"' fr:,il and Wl ' ! "'>' the '""'■>' 

., , seems, how bent the shoulders, how sunken 

evening costume. Seen anywhere, and ,, , , , , , . 

the cheeks, imw leaden-hued tin- lineaments; 

under any circumstances, he would strike ,„,, t | iey also ,„„,. the dauntless spirit Khu . h 

the observer as a remarkable man I still affects a jaunty carriage, and makes be- 
like best to think of him as I saw him lieve that progress is slowly made only because 
one evening at the play, on the first there is n0 hurrv - They further observe with 

admiration the careful newness of the aeees- 



representation of Tennyson's •■(' 

when a brilliant audience had gath 

in the Lyceum theatre to do honor both neckcloth, the pearl-gray gloves, guiltless of 



„ories of the figure, — the shapely coat of the 
when a brilliant audience had gathered lightes , , n: „„„ :|K „ R , negligent but ,,,.,.„„ 



EUROPE W STORM AXD CALM. 



669 



wrinkle, and the glossy liat. But these tilings 
are, however, only for commonplace occa- 
sions. On the day which marks a crowning 
stage in his memorable career lie puts on an 
old coat, liis second-best hat, and the dingy- 
brown trousers of long ago. 

He walked into Palace yard as if lie 
were immensely surprised to find it packed, 
and went into the House of Lords without 
looking up, and with an air of being absorbed 
entirely in his forthcoming speech, although 
he must have known that, instead of the 
empty benches usually seen, the chamber was 
thronged from end to end, that the privy- 
councillors were in their places before the 
throne, and that the hues of a flower garden 
were blended with the soft colors of a rain- 
how, which the beauty and rank of the Empire 
formed, and through which, after the storm 
of the Berlin Congress, the sun shone down on 
the Prime Minister. 

Lord Beaconsfield, when he returned 
from Berlin in company with Lord Salis- 
bury, and was on his way from the rail- 
way station to the little black house in 
Downing street, where the prime minis- 
ters have always resided, was cheered 
to the echo by the waiting thousands; 

and yet the otiteon f his visit was 

nothing more than the return to slavery 
of a million Christians, — a million 
wrested awav from the other millions of 
liberated ones, — who, if the right pol- 
icy had been adopted by England, might 
have been made England's firm allies. 
Lord Beaconsfield's triumph was, as has 
been truly said by one of his biogra- 
phers, " a triumph not of England, not of 
an English policy, not of an English- 
man : it was but the triumph of Judea, a 
Jewish policy, a .lew." 

Five years before the overwhelming 
of Beaconsfield and his policy Glad- 
stone had aroused all liberal England 
to a keen interest in the great- events 
which were beginning in south-eastern 
Europe. There the Turkish oppression 
had filially become intolerable, and 



culminated in tin insurrection in Herze- 
govina. This revolt of the peasantry 
against their Mahometan landlords in 
die rocky and picturesque provinces 
which had been under the Turkish do- 
minion for more than four hundred years 
was at once recognized by careful stu- 
dents of European affairs as the opening 
of the Eastern question, with till its 
perils, its penalties, and its possibilities. 
Of this insurrection in Herzegovina I 
saw much, and to all who looked on 
at the desultory fighting against the 
Turks in those autumn days of 1H7."> it 
was evident that a great movement for 
the independence and consolidation of 
the Slavs, who had so long been sepa- 
rated and crushed, had begun. Russia 
was moving mysteriously to promote this 
outbreak against the Turk, but the Turk 
was determined to resist with till his 
power the inroad upon the provinces 
which he had not known how to develop 
or to conciliate. 

Bosnia and Herzegovina, lying on 
the confines of Austria, and possessing 
a population speaking the same Slavic 
tongue spoken by so many millions of 
Austrian subjects, were somewhat more 
accessible to the influences of the outer 
world than provinces like Bulgaria and 
Roumelia. The insurrectionists in Her- 
zegovina and in Bosnia were amply 
aided by warriors from the unconquered 
'• Black mountain," — the Montenegrins, 
so long the guardians of Freedom on 
the frontiers of Europe. The Egyptian 
and Asiatic troops combating against 
these wild men. born among the stones 
and accustomed from their earliest 
infancy to hardships, had but little 
chance of success. Wherever they 
could inflict atrocious cruelties they 
did so. The Austrian frontier was 
lined for miles with camps id' the 
refugees from the Turkish vengeance. 



•'"II EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

On the iher Save, which forms the covered with dense forests, was unoccu- 

linc of demarkation between Bosnia pied l > v that augusl race, probably on 

.•Hid Austria, I saw, while making a account of the difficulty of tracing the 

journey from Belgrade, in Servia, to strategetical routes uniting these and 

Sissek, dozens of mutilated bodies of the consolidated provinces with the iso- 

nien and women floating down the lated stations of Pannonia and the colo- 

streain. These were the persons who nies of the Asiatic shore. In the first 

had been murdered by the Bashi- half of the seventh century the Avars, 

Bazouks. At Rugusa, in October, profiting by the departure of the legions 

1875, the camps of refugees must Lave of the Emperor Heraclius, rallied to fight 

contained many thousands of people to the Persians, invaded the province, de- 

whoni the Austrian government was vastated it, and occupied it in part. It 

compelled to serve daily pensions, un- was about that time that numerous Slavic 

less it wished to see these people (lie of tribes, who had come from beyond the 

starvation upon its hands. In rich and Carpathians, established themselves, by 

fertile Bosnia, with its towns teeming consent of the Emperor, in the country, 

with an active, industrious population, after they had expelled the Avars. The 

the insurrection was at first quite Servians, properly so called, occupied 

successful; but. there the Turks were Upper Moesia, Sirmia, and Ilascia. The 

very prompt and soon brought it under Chrobates, or Croates, already held all 

subjection. It was therefore to the that country between Istria and Cettina, 

fastnesses and strongholds on the — to-day Croatia and a part of Dalmatia. 

Herzegovinan frontier, hard by the The Zachlum, originally from Chelin, on 

Dalmatian coast, that the leaders and the borders of the Vistula, and the Na- 

their faithful followers retreated and rentines, — the old enemies of Venice, — 

reorganized the guerilla warfare which who gave their name to the river Na- 

proved so efficient in bringing about renta, or who, perhaps, took their name 

the greater contests soon to follow, from it. populated the land of Herze- 

With sympathetic populations on the govina. Another tribe came after the 

Austrian side of the frontier the in- first, established itself in what is now 

surgents were not likely to lack for Montenegro, and its people were for a 

supplies, and so they kept up their re- long time called Dioclates, from the 

sistance, waiting impatiently for the ancient name of the Black mountain. 

standard of revolt to be raised in Bosnia was soon invaded by these mi- 

Servia, Bulgaria, and in all the rich grating tribes, and the new Slavic Slate 

countries of Turkey iis Europe. was formed. United for a short time 

Bosnia, Herzegovina, and Monteue- under Douchan, these various States 

gro were a pait of the old country of the were soon separated after the fall of the 

Dalmatians, which was united to the Servian empire, and each once enjoyed a 

Roman Empire under Tiberius, and com- separated existence, — Bosuia under its 

prised, besides the above-mentioned coun- kings, Herzegovifla under its dukes, 

tries, a part of present Dalmatia. of Montenegro under its vladikas, up to 

Upper Slavonia, and of Servia. The the time of the Ottoman conquest. Ser- 

Romans appear to have colonized onh a via fell in 1457, Bosnia in 1463, Iler- 

part of the proviuce. All that portion zegovina in 1467, before the invading 

siruated in the centre and on the east, Turk ; but Montenegro, sheltered by her 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



1)71 



mountain ramparts, never surrendered 
at all. Bosnia and Herzegovina together 
have about twice the area of Belgium. 
Montenegro is a little labyrinth of rocks, 
interspersed with deep grottos and can- 
yons, — the Montenegrin legend being 
that when the good God was sowing- 
rocks and mountains in space, he carried 
them all in a great bag, and that as he 
was passing over a certain point the 
bottom of the bag fell out, and all the 
mountains and rocks in that day's stock 
constituted Montenegro. 

Servia, a compact anil fertile Slate of 
one thousand square miles in area, well 
watered by noble streams and studded 
by splendid forests, is divided into two 
distinct regions : Upper Servia. lying 
between the two Moravas, — the Ser- 
vian, rising in the west, and the Bul- 
garian in the south ; and Lower Servia, 
formed by the ample basin of the Great 
Morava in which these two streams 
unite, has all the elements of empire 
within it. Had it not been for the 
baleful influence of the Turk, under 
whose horses' hoofs no grass can grow, all 
these various Slavonic States now spring- 
ing into a fresh ami vigorous national ex- 
istence might have become very rich anil 
powerful. The Servians were the first 
of the Slavs who had embraced Chris- 
tianity. After the schism of Photius 
they hesitated for some time between 
Rome and Constantinople, and finally at- 
tached themselves to the Greek Church, 
while their neighbors, the Croats, re- 
mained Roman Catholics. Up to the 
tenth century they underwent many po- 
litical vicissitudes. They were subjects 
or vassals of the Greeks and the Bulga- 
rians until the day when one of their 
chiefs declared himself independent of 
the monarchies of Byzantium, and took 
the title of king, which his descendants 
bore after him. This Chief Simeon ab- 



dicated in 111)5, and became a monk, 
under the name of Stephen. He had 
two sons; Stephen-the-First-Crowned, 
so called because he was the first Ser- 
vian prince who received the royal 
unction in 1*217, who succeeded him. 
like his father went into a cloister 
toward the close of his days; the 
second son founded the national church 
of Servia. In 1346 Stephen Douchan, 
the Powerful, the ninth successor to the 
Servian monarchy, had brought under 
his domination the greater part of the 
Balkan peninsula, and carried his con- 
quering banners even to the gates of 
Constantinople, called himself "Tsar," 
and was recognized by the republic of 
Venice and by the Holy See. I lis son. 
who reigned after him. was assassinated 
in 1367, and in 1371 the crown passed 
to another family, — -to the Prince Loza- 
rus of the Servian popular ballads. Un- 
der the reign of this Prince Lozarus 
the Turks, commanded by Murad II.. 
gave battle to the Servians at Kossovo, 
on the 13th of June, 1389. Both the 
sultan and Lozarus were killed, and the 
Turks were victorious, and Servia lost 
her independence. 

The Servian throne was not over- 
turned, however, until 1 ).">!>. when 
Mahomet II. attacked Servia, ami defi- 
nitely incorporated it with the Turkish 
Empire. The Slavs then seemed hope- 
lessly condemned to captivity and subju- 
gation. Servia disappeared from history 
until, after three centuries and a half of 
unwilling slavery, a heroic swineherd 
of the Servian mountains lose against 
the Turks, and led his followers to vic- 
tory. Becomiug a true leader of the 
people, a wise and good dictator and 
prince, driving the Turks beyond the 
frontier, he was invested with supreme 
power, and reigned from 1804 to 1813. 
Then back came the Turks to drive out 



<WL> 



EUROPE IX STOR U AND CALM. 



the newly installed government, and for a few years the must tremendous 
more than two years the unhappy popu- changes had taken place. Early in 187G 
latlon was subjected to the most terrible the insurrectionists gained a victory 
excesses. Massacres and e ery torture over the Turks in Herzegovina. Then 
that Turkish vengeance <•< >uld suggest came the scheme of reform presented by 
were the order of the day. In 1815 the Count Andrassy in favor of the insur- 
people rose again at the voice of Milosch, units, and this was accepted by the sul- 
ulioni Russia supported as best she tan's government in February of 187G. 
could, and after fifteen years' fighting tiie But in May came the news of the Bul- 
valianl little country succeeded in getting garian outrages, the terrible atrocities at 
its autonomy recognized by the Porte, Batak, the vengeance of the oppressor 
ami by a firman of the same epoch the upon the oppressed before they could es- 
victor was declared hereditary Prince of cape from his tyranny. The massacres by 
Servia. To-day the country is an inde- the Circassians in Bulgaria were thor- 
pendent kingdom, recognized as such by oughly chronicled in the •■ Daily News," 
the treaty of Berlin in ' s7,s, and Prince the leading liberal journal in London, by 
.Milan, the cultivated and accomplished .Mi-. MacGahan, who investigated them 
ruler, was made king. Servia has a con- at the risk of his life, and told of them 
stitution according hereditary sover- with the simple eloquence of conviction, 
eienty. rendering ministers responsible What Mr. MacGahan saw in the Bulga- 
before the National Assembly, and giv- rian towns was enough to prove that 
ing exercise of the legislative power sixty or seventy villages had been burned, 
simultaneously to the king and the pub- that fifteen or sixteen thousand people 
lie legislature, which meets annually, hail been massacred, thai among the 
The Senate of Servia has been dans- dead were thousands of women and 
formed into a Council of State, charged children, and the women had been < 'tit- 
wit 1 1 the "elaboration of the laws" pre- raged before death, and that there was 
pared li\ the general power above men- no provocation on the part of the Bul- 
tioned. garians, beyond their well-known desire 
With Bosnia. Herzegovina, Monte- for freedom, to prompt to such awful 
negro, and Servia in insurrection, al- carnage. 

most one-half of the vast and beauti- The horror and commiseration which 
I'ul domain of Turkey in Europe was in the recital of these atrocities aroused in 
revolt, and if was easy to see that the Europe were nowhere more pronounced 
movement would soon spread to Bui- than in England. There was a conference 
garia, and might cross the Balkans, and at Berlin of the Emperors of Russia and 
<ro downward to Constantinople. The Germany, Bismarck and Count Andrassy 
tone of public sentiment in Russia also being present. They put their heals 
showed, even in these days of 1875, that together; the British fleet in the Medi- 
the advance of a liberating army through terranean was ordered to Besika Bay; 
Bessarabia and Roumania to the rescue Constantinople was in terror over (lie 
of the Christians in the south was not insurrection in Bulgaria, which, although 
among the impossibilities. Yet Europe it had been put down with such violence, 
went on in its blind, old. sleepy way. pro- was still a bugbear to the peace of Tur- 
claiining that there was no danger of any key. The shrinking and incapable sul 
change in the situation, although within tan, Abdul Aziz, was deposed at 



F.I ROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



(>7o 



Constantinople, to perish miserably by 
his own hand, or, as Mime say, by hired as- 
sassins. Later on, Murad V., who suc- 
ceeded him, announced that the Turkish 
government was henceforth to grant tin- 
liberties of all. Europe smiled at the 
possibility of a Turkish Parliament. 

Meanwhile Disraeli took a jocular 
view of the massacres in Bulgaria, and 
announced that the British Government 
had taken measures for the maintenance 
of peace. It was apparent, however, 
that there was to be no peace in the East 
until the Slavs had set themselves free. 
In June of 187G Prince Milan of Scrvia 
left Belgrade and went to his army on 
the frontier. The time had come, he 
said, to meet the Turk face to face 1 . The 
situation of Servia was no longer toler- 
able, and witli insurrection in Bosnia 
and Herzegovina, the Servian people 
must declare war. The Montenegrins 
joined their fortunes to Servia. The 
troops of these bold little States were 
at first defeated. But presently came 
another revolution at Constantinople. 
Murad V. was succeeded by Abdul 
Ilamid II. All Europe was now turn- 
ing its gaze to the East ; Russia was 
aiding the Servians, who, in a burst of 
enthusiasm, finally proclaimed Prince 
Milan King of Servia ami Bosnia, — a 
proclamation which they had later on to 
see annulled by Act of Congress. Mr. 
Gladstone had placed himself on record 
as the uncompromising enemy of the 
Turkish executive power in Bulgaria, 
and in all other States. " Let the 
Turks," he said, " carry away their 
abuses in the only possible manner — by 
carrying off themselves." In the same 
address, in characterizing the Turkish 
Government, he said, "We may ran- 
sack the annals of the world, but I know 
not what research can furnish us with 
so portentous an example of the fiendish 



misuse of the powers established by ( !od 
for the punishment of evil-doers, and 
for tlie encouragement of them that do 
well. No government ever has so 
sinned, none has so proved itself incor- 
rigible in sin, or, which is the same, so 
impotent for reformation." As the Ser- 
vian war progressed the Czar of Russia, 
made a proposition for the joint military 
occupation of Bosnia and Bulgaria; it 
was felt that, Austria might presently 
appear on the scene; public feeling in 
Russia and Turkey was greatly excited; 
finally, a short armistice between Servia 
and Turkey was exacted at the instance 
of the Russian Government. Lord Salis- 
bury was sent on his famous journey to 
( lonstantinople, via Paris, Berlin, Vienna, 
and Koine, to get the views of the various 
governments on a proposed conference 
on the Eastern Question. During this 
journey Lord Salisbury satislied himself 
of the truth of many things, none more 
interesting perhaps than that, the Triple 
Alliance between the three great mili- 
tary empires of Russia, Germany, and 
Austria, decided on their respective lines 
of policy when war should break out, in 
the Last, had been consummated as 
early as 1*7;;. This must have caused 
some surprise when it was first made 
known in Europe, and threw a new light 
upon all the movements in the East. 
The leading features of the Berlin Treaty 

of 1878 had, it is said, been decided upon 

several years before the downward move- 
ment of the Russian armies toward 
Bulgaria. Lord Salisbury, although rep- 
resenting a pro-Turkish party in the 
English cabinet, was informed during 
his journey that the English Government 
had decided that England would not 
•• assent to or assist, in coercive meas- 
ures, military or naval, against the Porte. 
The Porte must, on the other hand, be 
made to understand, as it has from the 



6 i I EUROPE IN STnRM AND CALM. 

first been informed, that il can expect Meanwhile turn with me from this 

no assistance from England in the event contemplation of the progress of events 

of war." Had England used its intln- in the East to recall a curious incident 

ence t<> coerce the Turk in those days, of the Herzegovinan insurrection, — a 

tlie succeeding campaigns, the entrance visit which I made in company with two 

of Russia upon the scene, and her as- >>r three other journalists to the in- 

sumption of predominating influence in surgents' camp, established among the 

Eastern Europe might have been checked almost inaccessible crags not far from 

or averted. the coast, in the autumn of L875. 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



675 



CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN. 



A Day with a Voivodft. 



An Insurgent Leader. — Among the Rocks. — A Picturesque Experience. — 
Turk and Slaw — Ljubibratic and his Men. 



A S we rode down the little hill be- 
-£^a- tween Ragnsa and Gravosa it 
suddenly occurred to us that every one 
else had gone to sleep in the quiet of 
the warm October afternoon, and that it 
was especially absurd to he starting upon 
a long and toilsome journey, when we 
could sit under the cliffs by the Adriatic 
and he lulled into delicious repose liy the 
music of the blue waves breaking against 
the reddish-tinted rocks. The tiny villas 
nestling in the olive-groves seemed to 
Mink sleepily at us as we passed; the 
peasants lying curled up by the wayside 
in curiously picturesque heaps slept 
soundly; the boatmen huddled beneath 
the awnings of their small crafts were 
snoring in unison as we came to the ba- 
sin at Gravosa ; tin- vast hills, which rose 
stern, stony, terrible in the distance, ap- 
peared to li«' dreaming in the tremulous 
autumn sunshine. In the cqfi of Gra- 
vosa half-a-dozen stalwart mountaineers 
had laid aside their packs, and, burying 
their faces in their hands, were leaning 
forward upon the tallies. In the post- 
office the venerable clerk had doffed his 
heavy Austrian cap, laid his head against 
the wall near the wicket, ami luxuriously 
closed his eyes. It was one of the clock 
in the afternoon in Dalmatia, and men 
who walked abroad, and seemed bent 
upon some errand at that hour sacred to 
sleep, would have been watched as dan- 
gerous had there been any one awake 
to watch them. 

The general sleepiness seemed to op- 



press us, although we had need of all 
our faculties at that moment. The driver, 
who appeared ready to fall from his scat, 
overcome with somnolence, pulled up 
his horses beneath the shade of a large 
tree, ami we leaned hack in the rickety 
carriage, and were fast yielding to temp- 
tation when we were aroused by the 
sharp, clear voice of our guide, who had 
been lingering behind. " We must go 
on to Ombla," he said. " The voivoda 
will soon follow us, anil we must get 
boats ready and lose no time when he 
catches up with us, or we -hall not reach 
the camp before dark. And strangers," 
— said our guide, Tomo, witli a half-dis- 
dainful inflection upon the word, — 
'• strangers cannot pick their way among 
the Herzegovinan rocks after nightfall." 

" But there will be a full moon," we 
ventured to remark. 

'■ So much the worse for you." said 
Tomo, speaking slowly in the Italian, 
which was difficult for his Slavic tongue, 
but was the necessary vehicle of con- 
versation. "The moonlight might lead 
the gentlemen to break their necks. The 
moon plays queer tricks in these rocky 
fields. She makes one believe that there 
is solid stone where there is a yawning 
precipice. She tries the eyes of the 
mountaineer, puts magical charms be- 
fore his gaze, and makes him lose his 
way. The gentlemen could not even 
walk among our crags and rocks in the 
moonlight. Better a thick darkness : then 
one is not dazed ; and one can grope." 



676 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



So saying, Tomo shouldered his gun. 
turned gracefully from us. and set oul 
for Ombla. The driver impatiently gath- 
ered up his reins, murmuring, •• Mad re 
di TJiol when shall we be well rid of 
these Greeks?" and we rattled alone,' in 
Touio's wake. 

A turn in the road just as we seemed 
about to plunge into the Adriatic, a drive 
alone a narrow causeway with an arm 
of the sea on one side and high stone 
walls and scraggy houses on the oilier, 
and at last we came to a square sur- 
rounded with low villas. A little alley 
led down to the water-side. At the foot 
of three steps a large boat was moored. 
In the boat la\ iis owner asleep. Here 
we were to await the voivoda. 

Picture to yourself a vast amphi- 
theatre of colossal rocks rising majes- 
tically from blue water fringed with a 
few straggling trees. As far as the eye 
can reach hillward nothing but stones, 
bald, uncouth, tremendous, piled one 
upon another in confusion which no pen 
can describe. Here the walls which 
shut out the rich valleys and smiling 
fields beyond seem almost perpendic- 
ular. One cannot imagine that among 
then) there are roadways, or even paths 
along' which goats and their shepherds 
may stray. In the centre of the amphi- 
theatre are a. lew scattered white cottages 
surrounding a mysterious rivulet which 
bubbles up from the rocks, and, after 
(lowing in an impetuous current for a 
short distance, disappears again among 
them. It is a region from which there 
seems no outlet save that by which we 
entered it, one narrow strip of winding 
load. Such is the basin of hill-guarded 
Ombla. 

The coast of Dalmatia, at this point, 
where its mountains touch the frontier 
of Herzegovina, is wonderfully rich in 
color. At early morning purple tints 



seem to lie lovingly upon the slopes and 
terraces of stone ; at noon great glorious 
waves of light break over them, and 
magically transform them into reddish- 
brown ruined castles, or deep gray mon- 
asteries, or [link or golden forests ; every- 
thing seems strange ami supernatural. 
Late in the afternoon the shadows gather 
in the ten thousand nooks and crevices, 
and lend a forbidding aspect to the enor- 
mous barriers which seem to have some 
secret toguard,aud to refuse admittance 

to the land beyond to the anxious wan- 
derer. Oue feels as if one were upon 
enchanted ground. 

Of the many routes which lead into 
Herzegovina from Ragusa, the near- 
est Dalmatian port, there is but one 
which is in any sense practicable for 
even the rude wagons or the pack-mules 
used in the transportation of supplies to 
the Turkish fortresses. All the others 
lead through small villages perched 

among the mountains at points where a 
little soil and a few springs of fresh 
water are to lie found. The unhappy trav- 
eller who should attempt alone to thread 
these comparatively unfrequented and 
absolutely labyrinthine paths would in- 
cur imminent risk of dying of exhaus- 
tion, or might fall a prey to the small 
banditti always hovering along the Aus- 
trian frontier, bidding defiance to the 
gendarmes, or, if caught, pretending to 
be insurgents on the lookout for arms 
and ammunition. If the traveller be ac- 
companied by a stout guide he will yet 
Mud himself many times on the point of 
SUCClimbingto the dreadful fatigue which 
overcomes him as he clambers inces- 
santly up. up, up. with little or no chance 
for repose, ami with the sun's rays beat- 
ing down with terrific force upon his 
head. Those who have ever wandered 
along the side of Vesuvius under an 
August sunlight can in a faint degree 



EUROPE IX STiiHM AX/) t'U.U. 



677 



appreciate the terrors of :i climbing 
joust in the mountains on the Herzego- 
vinan frontier. 

Our guide, Tomo, had many times told 
us of the dangers of the way ; indeed, 
he took a certain malicious pleasure in 
depicting every horror, and in setting it 
in the most repulsive light. This he did 
not from any ill-will towards us, but from 
that natural instinct which leads the 
mountaineer and the sailor always to 
mock at those who are unaccustomed to 
precipices or to the sea. Our gay and 
cosmopolitan party, gathered from all 
corners of the world to witness the great 
struggle in progress in the autumn of 
l.STo by the oppressed Christians against 
their oppressive Turkish masters, upon 
whom they had finally turned with all 
the energy of men made desperate by 
long suffering, had been snugly en- 
camped in the garrison town of Ragusa 
for some days, patiently awaiting a sum- 
mons from one of the insurgent chiefs, 
camped near the Austrian border, to visit 
him. The committee of Slavs in Ra- 
gusa interested in the success of the in- 
surrection had forwarded to one of the 
camps a request that we should be es- 
corted to the centre of operations, and 
introduced personally to the leaders who 
were fighting for freedom and for the 
maintenance of the Christian religion. 
Several times, a day had been appointed, 
and guides had been sent to meet: us. 
but before we had left Ragusa news had 
arrived that the insurgents had broken 
camp and were on a forced march of 
many days. Thus we had waited in un- 
certainty, until one morning we were in- 
formed that the main body of the rebels, 
twenty-five hundred strong, was en- 
camped in the almost inaccessible vil- 
lage of Grebzi, in a corner of Herze- 
govina, within a few hours' march of 
Ragusa. Footsore, exhausted, and with 



ammunition-boxes nearly empty, this lit- 
tle army had resolutely placed its picket 
lines within half an hour's march of a 
formidable Turkish fortress, and had 
determined to study the situation before 
proceeding farther. The chiefs held a 
meeting, and decided to send their leader, 
the voivoda, a stern, brave, well-edu- 
cated man. named Ljubibratic, to Ragusa, 
that he might, during his brief visit, get 
some idea, of the opinion of the outside 
world concerning the struggle. The voi- 
voda came from his fortress to Ragusa ; 
there we met him and were invited to 
return with him to the rock-surrounded 
camp of Grebzi. The invitation was ac- 
cepted. The news, speedily bruited a I iron d 
in Ragusa, so astonished the Turkish con- 
sul that lie ipiite forgot his dignity, and 
calling on us one by one, entreated us 
•■ not to risk our lives among the ruf- 
fians ; " not ■■ to believe the hundred lies 
we were sure to hear from the Greeks ;" 
and, finally, not to give the insurgents 
any details relative to the positions of 
Turkish forces which we had seen during 
a recent journey made on the high road 
to Trebigne. an important Turkish post. 
We fancied that we could detect a twin- 
kle of malice in the consul's eye as he 
deprecatingly bade us good-by when he 
found that we were determined to ven- 
ture among the insurgents, and it did not 
require a lively imagination to picture 
him sending a messenger in hot haste to 
the nearest Mahometan fort, advising 
its commander to intercept us, and not 
only capture the wandering voivoda, but 
cut off the heads of his companions. An 
encounter with a Turkish patrol was 
among the possibilities, but we dismissed 
the unpleasant thought of it from our 
minds, as we stood looking at the sombre 
and precipitous banks of Ombla, and 
concentrated our attention upon the ex- 
acting task before us. 



678 EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 

Meantime the voivoda, with his little with martial air. Handsome fellows 

body-guard of tall, lithe Herzegovinans, were tl;cy, with long, coal-black hair 

well armed with trusty, although ancient and mustaches, with noble necks and 

rillcs, with yataghans taken from the chests, sinewy and symmetrical limbs, 

bodies of dead Turks, and with pistols Their teeth were like pearls, their eves 

half a yard lime-, was supposed to be were bright, their gait was elastic. In- 

plodding on from Ragusa to overtake voluntarily they glanced at us. then at 

us. and at Omblft we were all to start the rocks overhanging Ombla, and then 

together for the mountain ascent. An they shook their heads. We felt ehal- 

liour passed ; the boatman awoke, rolled leuged to put forth our best efforts on 

and lighted a cigarette, swore a gentle the march, ami nerved ourselves ac- 

oath. looked at the sun, then at us. ami cordingly. 

shrugged his shoulders ; no voivoda came. Voivoda Ljubibratic looked like an 

Another hour passed, during which tin' ancient Servian king stepped out of the 

boatman ami Tomo, besides continually margin of some illuminated manuscript 

consuming cigarettes, now and then bursl of Stephen Douchau's time. lie wore 

into violent invectives; still no voivoda the costume of the people of Servia, 

came. The Frenchman in our party sang among whom lie had lived nearly all 

a soul; ; the Italian fumed ami fretted ; his life, although he was Herzegovinan 

the Slavic professor maintained an at- born. A green tunic, with looselv-flow- 

titudc expressive of mild astonishment ; ing sleeves, was girt about his waist with 

the Russian agent, sent to dispense a simple hell, in which there were no 

moneys and charities, frowned treincn- weapons. At his side hung a fine sabre 

douslv, ami hinted that the voivoda was of modern make, the symbol of his au- 

not as good as his word; and we two thority. His leggins and his (i/tiinl,'s. 

Americans looked from one to the other or slippers, were of line material, but 

of the members of the eccentric group, much worn and frayed by long inarches 

and then glanced along the dusty road in the rocky hv-uavs. Beneath the tunic 

down which the voivoda was expected. his ample chest was covered by a Ser- 

There he was! An old man. almost vian jacket, richly embroidered with gold 
grovelling in the dust, was kissing his and silver. His face, exceptionally line 
hand, worshipping in him the would-be in repose, bore an expression of simple 
liberator of his race. Surely, the voi- good-humor when animated; a lofty 
voda was a romantic and impressive fig- brow, only partly shaded bv a. Monte- 
■ne as he strode a few steps ahead of his uegrin cap ; line eves, which had a sin- 
guard through the village. The hybrid gular fashion of looking out and away 
Slavo-Italian children bowed and courte- from present objects, as if their owner 
sieil ; the nut-brown maidens blushed were continually endeavoring to exain- 
aml cast down their eves; the old ine the future ; a sensitive month and a 
women shrieked with delight, " Voivoda ! noble brown heard, were the conspicuous 
voivoda! Now may Heaven bless ami features. One instinctively felt proud 
preserve you many years, ever good to take the voivoda by the hand, 
voivoda, our only trust, our all ! " The This title of "voivoda " was not the 
affection, the earnest adoration, were exclusive property of our friend Ljubi- 
almost painful to witness. The men-at- bratic. In thecampal Grebzi were half- 
arms grinned with delight and strutted a-dozen other chieftains who, from the 



FJ'RDVF. IN STORM AND CALM. 



(579 



fact that they commanded large bodies 
of men. wire privileged to employ the 
same prefix t<> their names; but, recog- 
nizing the fact that there must be only 
one supreme authority, they had vested 
it in Ljubibratic, and had permitted him 
to be recognized in all the country round 
as the voivoda. I have endeavored to 
give the singular name the English 
spelling which most resembles its sound 
when it is pronounced by the Slavs 
themselves. In Servia there are five 
grand territorial divisions called voi- 
vodies, created for convenience in 
grouping the militia of the country, and 
the leaders of the troops are called 
voivoda. 

As soon as he could free himself from 
the exuberant caresses of the people in 
the village the voivoda beckoned the 
boatman to approach, The obsequious 
fellow doffed his hat, and came running 
up the stone steps, muttering compli- 
ments iu his Italian dialect. •' Set us 
across al yonder point," said the voivoda, 
pointing to a lone-, ragged promontory of 
stone some distance In-low the little white 
houses of Ombla. " And remember," 
he added in liquid Italian, which he spoke 
far better than the boatman himself, 
" let no one in the village say whither we 
have gone or how many we are." lie 
laid his hand heavily on the boatman's 
shoulder. The brown hand of the Italian 
came up to his breast and made a sign as 
of complete subordination to the voivo- 
da's will. We hastened into the boat, 
and were soon on the opposite shore. As 
we began to climb among the rocks two 
rough-looking fellows, the very counter- 
parts of the Italian brigands we have all 
so often seen in operas, arose mysteri- 
ously from behind a crag, and, without 
even deigning to notice our parly of 
strangers, clad in the ugly, civilized 
clothes which are looked upon with such 



contempt in the Levant, set off at a sharp 
pace ahead of us. 

The voivoda was thoughtful. The sun 
was pouring great Hoods of scorching 
heat down upon the bare stones, I mt he 
seemed oblivious alike of the warmth and 
of the mighty ascent. He lounged slowly 
behind all the others, rolling cigarettes 
in an indolent, thoughtful way. as every 
one does in these Eastern countries, ami 
now and then stopping to take a long 
look at the Turkish frontier, which we 
could see as soon as we had climbed to 
the top of the first ridge. He seemed to 
be studying every rock, as if calculating 
how all these mule force's could be turned 
into agents to aid in destroying the op- 
pressive Mahometans. 

It seemed like tempting Providence to 
climb such awful heights under a burn- 
ing sun. There were moments when the 
courage of our party gave way during 
th" first half-hour, and we determined to 
return. We looked up; there towered 
the mighty, bald masses, unutterably 
erand, silent, severe; there seemed no 
way through them or around or beneath 
them. We looked down, and we saw 
the blue waters of the inlei at < )mbla, the 
boatmen tranquilly rowing in the breezy 
waves or lying luxuriously stretched out 
beneath their awnings as their little craft 
rocked to and fro, and we were anxious 
to get down to safe ground again. The 
thought of night amoug these mountains 
seemed almost frightful to us. But we 
rose and staggered alone. 

Suddenly we turned a sharp corner 
and came to a rocky ledge, from which 
we had a glorious view of the tranquil 
Adriatic. How beautiful was the sea. 
girdling the little dun-eolorcd islets and 
setting boldly in to the romantic inden- 
tation-, of the coast ! Miles below, on 
the Dalmatian shore, we could see here 
anil there a chapel lonely upon a hill- 



680 EUROPE IX STORM \XD CALM. 

side, or a dark clump of olive trees, or neck. A second glance at the mass 

a little village clinging to the rocks out showed that it was a fortification which 

of which it was built. We turned from we had seen many times before, — the 

the sea with a sigh, and clambered once round, picturesque fort of Czarino, 

more. on the Turkish frontier. ^Vith the aid 

Tomo, the guide, reminded me much of our field-glasses we could see figures 

of those stalwart bronze-colored men moving about on the ramparts, and the 

whom I had seen in the Indian Territory, Russian agent insisted that they, too, 

those still splendid tj'pes of the fading were sweeping the sky with glasses, 

Cherokee and Choctaw races lb' had and that they saw us. 

the same graceful quickness of limb, the "What matter?" said the voivoda 

same stern repose of feature, the same serenely. " We may sit here and make 

Contempt for fatigue. He never sat mOUths at our enemies : we are on Aus- 

down to rest : be was in perpetual move- trian territory, and they dare not fire on 

ment. If we came by chance to a little us; and as to their sending a patrol it 

terrace where some miserable peasant could not even leave the fort without 

had taken advantage of half an acre of being signalled to our people at Grebzi 

untrustworthy soil to grown straggling and down to us here before the Turks 

vineyard, he diil not stretch his limbs in could have got well underway. There 

the shade of the vines, as we did ; but are men in that fort who know these 

he leaped f rom rock to rock, he vaulted mountain ways : they were brought up 

lightly across a chasm, clambered up a in Herzegovina; they are renegades 

peak, ran for a few yards, stood poised to their religion and to their race ; they 

almost as if he were about to fly away arc the last men to venture out among 

like a bird. Sometimes he sang a rude, the precipices so near nightfall; and as 

but not unmusical song, in which lie was for the Asiatic portion of the garrison 

joined by two Montenegrins who were there is no danger that it will come to 

with us. and who kept time to the refrain us, for it is quaking with terror in antici- 

liy brandishing their weapons as they pation of an attack upon the walls of 

walked. Tomo constantly came to us, Czarino this very night." And the 

encouraging us. speaking kind words in voivoda tranquilly lighted another cigar- 

his Italian patois: "Courage! the worst ette. 

is over. You will soon be at a little vil- This tort of Czarino occupies an al- 

lage where miii can rest. Andiamo!" most isolated crag, about half an hour's 

After an hour's climbing we found our- ride from the city of Rngusa, It donri- 

selves on a huge shelf from which we nates tin' only practicable route from 

could look out hundreds of yards over southern Austria, into Herzegovina 

the rocky field in every direction. The and the other provinces subject to 

voivoda. came to us and smilingly Turkey. The insurgents persisted in 

pointed to a dark, round mass on the hovering near it. although there was 

horizon, which, as birds fly, would have but little chance of securing it. " If 

been scarcely a quarter of a mile distant, I had but two batteries of mountain 

but which could have been reached in artillery ! " sighed the voivoda. " lint 

these terrible mountains only by the we have nothing, not even ammunition 

high-road from Ragusa, or by several enough to fight a good battle." He 

hours of clambering at the risk of one's turned away in silence, and the Russian 



EUROTE IX STORM AXD CAL 1/ 



681 



agent began to say comforting words, 
and to hint at the support which would 
ho mysteriously forthcoming at the 
proper time. 

Crawling, scrambling, leaping, our 
heads dizzy, our shoulders and limlis 
lame, we finally came to a plateau, at 
whose farther extremity, under the 
shadow of a rocky hill, we saw a little 
village. There were a. few green trees, 
and low one-story houses, miserably 
thatched, and heaped about with stones. 
A ragged population came out to meel 
us. The women were mainly engaged 
in carrying heavy burdens, fagots of 
wood or bundles of grain, on their 
heads. Incessant toil had taken away 
most of their enthusiasm ; they merely 
courtesied as the voivoda passed. The 
men greeted the chief with effusive 
friendship and reverence. Although 
still in Austria, Ljubibratic fell thor- 
oughly at home here, because the people 
were of the same race, religion, and 
sentiment as the ignorant and oppressed 
Hevzegovinans over the border. As 
we stepped in upon the circle of a stone 
threshing-floor, and sat down to drink 
from a gourd, and to bathe our swollen 
hands, torn and bruised with grasping 
the rocks, a noble and statuesque old 
man, fully six feet and a half in height, 
came forward to greet the voivoda. 
This venerable man was as erect and 
stately as he had been at twenty-live ; 
his eyes were dim. but he still had a 
firm gait and a noble port, although he 
had seen ninety years. His Hue head 
was enveloped in a voluminous red 
turban, but the rest of his garments 
were, little better than rags. This was 
the chief of the village, and he held a 
long and animated conversation with 
the voivoda, urging him. so said Tomo, 
the guide, to do some (hiring act which 
should so compromise the Slavic popu- 



lation in Austria that, they would be 
compelled to join in the struggle against 
the Turks. When the old man had 
finished his remarks he gravely kissed 
the hand of the voivoda and retired, 
saluting us with staid, solemn gestures. 

From the village to tin' camp at, ( trebzi 
there were yet two hours of vigorous 
climbing and scrambling to be under- 
gone, and we made but a brief halt. 
The avant-coiiriers who laid joined us 
at Ombla had not halted at all. lint were 
now lost to sight beyond the jutting 
stones on the horizon. As we left the 
collection of miserable hovels villagers 
crowded on the steps of the voivoda, 
some proffering complaints that his men 
hail robbed them of Kids or goats ; others 
that he did not make decisive move- 
ments enough ; yet others that he al- 
lowed strangers — alluding to us — to 
come into the country and to discover his 
forces. To all these he replied by scorn- 
ful waves of the hand, or now and then 
by loud, imperious commands of silence. 
We soon left the grumblers behind, and 
were once more alone with the rocks. 

But presently, as the hour of sunset 
approached, we encountered large Hocks 
of goats coming down from their dubious 
pasturage of the day to their folds for the 
night. Sometimes the only practicable 
route was not large enough to permit of 
the passage of our party and a flock of 
goats also. A leader of the horned and 
bearded denizens of the mountains would 
eye us for a few moments, as if he con- 
templated giving battle, but. after a sur- 
vey of our numbers, would turn back 
with an angry snort and a choleric stamp 
of his fore lee',. Mori' than once T climbed 
a high rock with a view of protecting 
myself from the possible attacks of these 
wild goats, that rebel even against the 
rough mountaineers who own them. 

Night came suddenly. The rocky 



<W2 EUROTE IX STORM AXD CALM. 

ways became obscure; one looked up came a peculiar hail, a Ions;, low crv. In a 
in surprise to li 1 1< 1 the sky darkening moment ii was repeated. Then if wasan- 
above him ; there seemed no slow, in- swered from our side, and also repeated, 
sidious approach of twilight, as in lower Presently, from the left, came a similar 
regions We quickened our pace. The hail, similarly answered liv our men, 
body-guard scattered hither and yon, and who had gone in that direction. In a 
no longer chattered in the smoothly moment more the rocks all around us 
flowing Slavic Our party, French, Iial- swarmed with armed men, who jumped 
ian, Russian, American, was oppressed down joyously, crying, " Voivoda! voi- 
and overwhelmed by the coming dark- voda!" Many of them crowded around 
ness. The rocks took on fantastic shapes : him, kissing his hands and the hem of 
a belated shepherd a little way off seemed his garment, while others entered into 
to us like a pinnacle overhanging the a noisy explanation of the events which 
narrow path, and half-a-dozen pinnacles had occurred since his departure. Sooth- 
looked like Mahometan soldiers wail- ing and quieting them as if they had been 
ing to tire upon us as we passed. We children, lie led the way. calling us to 
descended into a valley, then wearily follow, across a terribly rugged patch of 
climbed another ridge. Nowhere now rocks a mile or two long, then down a 
was there visible a tree or clump of fo- lane walled in on cither side, and intro- 
liage or minutest shrub; nowhere any- duced us without warning to one of the 
thing save rocks, — rocks on all sides most unique spectacles that my eves 
On the top of the ridge the guards halted, have ever rested upon. 
One of them sal down and listened in- The lane terminated abruptly <>n a 
tently. The voivoda, who now preceded ledge from which we looked down into 
us. motioned us to halt. Parties of the a cup set in the hills, and guarded on 
insurgents moved to the left and the every hand by a succession of rolling 
right. At last the voivoda seated him- valleys filled with jagged masses of stone, 
self on a convenient stone, and calling In this deep, cup-shaped space a large 
to us. and pointing down into a second number of little camp-fires were burn- 
valley, now almost concealed in the rap- ing, and flitting to and fro among them 
idly deepening shadows, and then to the we could see stalwart men armed to the 
rugged ghostly hills beyond, he said. teeth. A loud hum. the echo of the 

"Gentlemen, welcome to my domain! noisy conversation around the fires, 

You arc in the Herzegovina." drifted up to our ears. Here ami there, 

Nowhere was there sight or sound of where the Maine burned out, brightly, we 
camp. The waste seemed untenanted, could sec small, ugly, black cottages. 
Our hearts sank" as we imagined a long Away off among the rocks we heard 
night-journey to the village among the the monotonous refrain of a song, doubt- 
rocks. We rose with the energy of de- less sung by some warrior, who in halt- 
spair when the voivoda invited us to con- i no- rhythm was celebrating his exploits 
tinue the route to Grebzi. Where were of the past week or of the day. 
the insurgent forces? The transition from tin 1 solemn and 

We began to descend into the valley, awful calm of the Herzegovinan high- 
Here there was a. narrow path of smooth lands — the calm which we had felt with 
stones. We had gone but a few steps such terrific force just as the curtain of 
when from the bosom of the rocks there darkness was fiuallv drawn — to this half- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



683 



joyous, half-savage vivacity of the camp 
and the village, was almost repulsive. 
There seemed something weird, super- 
natural in it. We dreaded to go down, 
lest we might find that we iiad ventured 
upon a Walpurgis Night, or some dread- 
fill assemblage of sorcerers from below. 
There was, however, just at this moment 
a smart commotion in the camp: hasty 
words were heard; there was a rattle 
of arms ; men ran to anil fro : and a few 
careless shots were tired. 

" What is it. Tomo? " we ask eel of the 
guide. 

" It is the voivoda's arrival." he said. 
" Probably some one on an out-of-the- 
wav peak saw us coming, and rushed in 
to give an alarm, thinking it might lie 
the enemy ; but now our men have ar- 
rived and the mistake is corrected, and 
we shall all be welcome. You will see ;" 
and Tomo bristled witli pride and stroked 
his long black mustaches. 

We did sec. The voivoda sprang 
lightly down from the ledge, — it seemed 
as if he were leaping from a high preci- 
pice into an abyss, — but he landed safely 
on a rock below, then upon another, and 
we followed him. Tomo shouted to us 
to keep in the background till he came, 
as strange faces might not please some 
of the more ignorant of the insurgents; 
but our curiosity spurred us on, and 
we strode along a narrow village street, 
flanked on either side by one-story stone 
hovels. Suddenly a torch Bared up, and 
a croup of noble and impressive-looking 
men approached. The voivoda hastened 
toward the elder and graver of the two 
foremost, and the pair embraced, kiss- 
ing each other repeatedly. He then 
gave tlie same affectionate greeting to 
all the others, and, after some hurried 
conversation, introduced us to Peko 
1'avlovie, the renowned and terrible 
slaver of Turks, and director of the 



movements of a large part of the 
f< irees. 

The first instinctive movement, on 
hearing Peko's name, was one of repul- 
sion, for he had been described to us, 
even by his ardent admirers, as a demon 
incarnate, a species of Hans of [celand, 
breathing out slaughter, delighting in the 
mutilation of the bodies of his victims, 
and cherishing the most fiendish malice. 
In the early days of the insurrection Peko 
had established tit Slivnitza — a camp 
not far from Grebzi — a "reliquary," 
where the heads of Turks slain in bat if 1 
were kept as ghastly trophies. A young 
Russian officer informed me that he had 
visited this reliquary, and that Peko ex- 
hibited to him with the greatest pride the 
corpse of a Turkish officer, which iiad 
been carried away from some skirinish- 
lield, and was kept there that the insur- 
gents might gloat over the corruption of 
their enemy's body. 

A moment after we had looked on Peko 
our repulsion had vanished. lie is a 
nobly formed Montenegrin of the heroic 
type, pretty well past the flower of his 
middle life. His face i> as clearly cut as 
that of a handsome woman; his brows 
shade a pair of deep, sombre eyes, with 
nothing whatever murderous in their 
glance. His thin li|>s arc shaded by a 
broad black mustache ; his massive 
chin, his square jaw, give evidence of 
strength of will and character. His 
might v chest was sheathed in a. silver 
jacket of mail, the front, of which was 
very elaborately ornamented. This bit 
of mediaeval splendor, of which most 
of the Montenegrin chiefs are very fond, 
must have cost Peko a pretty penny. To 
describe his weapons would lie merely to 
puzzle the reader: suffice it to say that 
in his girdle he wore nearly a dozen 
small-arms, and that on the march he 
invariablv carries a rifle, which he uses 



G84 



WROTE IX srnilH AM) CM 1/ 



unerringly. Peko has all tin 1 befitting most forcible human expressions of 

qualities of a chief save education: lie the four-hundred-year period of hate 

is ignorant, ami the voivoda, although of the Montenegrin for the Turk that 

loss versed than Peko in the science' of I have ever seen. lie has given his 

mountain warfare, lias frequently saved whole body ami soul to the task of driv- 

him from blunders into which he would ing the Moslems from the mtries 

have rushed, compromising the whole which they have so long oppressed, ami 

iusuirection in the eves of neighboring hi' will labor mercilessly to that end 

nations. When tin voivoda first came until his dying day. 

from Belgrade to Herzegovina to start Peko and his fellow-chiefs, Herzego- 

thc rebellion againsl tin' Turks, Peko vinan ami Montenegrin, greeted lis 

was sent out by the Prince of Mou- kindly. Luca Petcovic, one of the most 

tenegro to check him. and to warn him noted of the elder chieftains, was absent, 

that the time was not vat. l'eko met, but there were others whose scars and 

Ljubibratic, ami told him his mission; the renown of whose exploits entitled 

but the voivoda would not listen to per- them to notice, who wandered with tis 

suasion. Upon this l'eko seized Ljubi- about the camp, explaining, through the 

bratic, had him bound hand and fool joyous and willing Tomo, everything 

and conveyed to the frontier, and lie which we did not understand. As it 

want lo see that the orders were obeyed, was not thought wise to attempt an ex- 

l'.nt on the way to the Austrian border planation of the mission of journalists 

Ljubibratic succeeded in persuadiug Peko to the common soldiers we were intro- 

that the insurrection in Herzegovina duced to the group as gentlemen who 

was ripe and should be begun, and that had come to inspect the " Italian squad- 

the Prince of Montenegro ought to be ron," which was proving itself a most 

prevailed upon to aid it, at least tacitly, efficient aid to the insurrection ; ami 1111- 

Peko at once ordered the voivoda's bands der these borrowed colors we succeeded 

to be unloosed, returned with him to a in obtaining a cordial welcome from every 

camp, joined the insurgents, ami ac- one. The warriors left off their whining, 

knowledged his late prisoner as his com- monotonous chants as we approached. 

mander-in-chief. Since that time he had and rose to greet us courteously. Two 

implicitly followed the lead of the voi- men were despatched to a spring, which 

voda in general matters, venturing only was a long distance from the camp, for 

now and then to differ in regard to the water, which they transport in these 

conduct of an expedition or the treat- mountain regions in pig-skins, as they 

incut of a captured enemy. do also in Spain ; and two or three other 

l'eko is still a force in Herzegovina stout fellows, having slaughtered a. 

against the Turks. lie rushes down sheep ami dressed it, spitted (he animal 

from the mountains with a little band on an old sabre, and were soon roasting 

and annihilates a convoy, beheads it whole before a cheerful lire. Having 

an a°"il or a bev. or throws half-a- no longer any legs to stand on. we sank 

dozen soldiers over a precipice, before down, a tired and demoralized group, 

the astonished Moslems can say a upon some rocks near tin' hut in which 

prayer. He kills with frenzy, but the Italians were quartered, ami watched 

behind all his apparent barbarity there the warriors as they came and went, or as 

is a fixed motive. He is one of the they stood indolently smoking their long 



EUROPE I.\ STORM AM) CALM. 



68J 



pipes and listening in a lialf-suspicious, 
half-amused manner to the jargon of 

English, French, and Italian which 
echoed from our party. 

Noble men physically, these warriors, 
— the best products of Herzegovina; 
yet men so aliased by centuries of op- 
pression that they were hopelessly igno- 
rant, and weri' bringing up their children 
in ignorance. Shapely, cleanly men, of 
fine instincts, one would say ; no low 
cunning in their faces ; not men to knock 
a traveller on the head, like a Sicilian 
or Corsican mountaineer, hut men who 
needed only a chance at development to 
improve it. They had sent all their 
wives and children over the Austrian 
border, where they would be safe from 
the murderous vengeance of the Turks 
and of those fanatical Slavs who long 
ago renounced the Christian religion for 
Mohammedanism; and they felt free to 
fight. My heart went out to these down- 
trodden, misunderstood " rayahs," — 
these men who might at any time be 
hampered in their struggles for freedom 
by the intrigues of greater nations near 
them, — these men who followed so will- 
ingly and obeyed so implicitly their 
voivoda, and who looked upon him as a 
demi-god. 

Not a. house in this village camp of 
Greb/.i had a, chimney ; the two or three 
hovels into which we ventured were so 
filled with smoke from the tires on the 
hearths that we were compelled to re- 
treat. The furniture was of the simplest 
description. There were no beds, but 
low stone couches, like those one sees in 
houses in Pompeii ; on these straw and 
blankets were spread. Chairs, tables, 
and such luxuries "evidently had never 
been heard of at Grebzi. It was a mis- 
erable little village, forlorn, in the crags. 
Before the women and children, who cul- 
tivate the fields, had fled, it might have 



been just tolerable to look at; but even 
then it must have appeared barbarous. 
We were lodged that night in a house 
which, as the voivoda assured us with a. 
smile, was once the home of a wealthy 
fanner. It consisted of three rooms un- 
der one thatched roof. Two of the rooms 
were perhaps half a story higher than 
the third, and in those we slept. The 
inner one resembled a. cellar; its floor 
of stone was littered with straw ; light was 
admitted through two small apertures in 
an immensely thick wall, and the door 
was scarcely high enough to admit any 
one of us. In the outer room a tire 

sii lderedon the hearth, and the smoke 

wandered into every corner. A lew 
wooden bowls, trenchers, one or two rude 
knives, an iron wash-basin, and a camp- 
stool made in liagusa, were the only 
articles of furniture we could discover. 
These had contented the wealthy farmer 
all his life, Tomo said with a grin, as he 
arranged our sleeping-room : why should 
we ask for more? 

Before we retired t<> this abode of lux- 
ury the chiefs came in friendliest fashion 
to see us partake of the supper which 
had been prepared for us. I was much 
amused at the manner in which the men 
who were delegated to serve us managed 
their apologies for a lack of numerous 
necessary articles, such as salt, bread, 
etc. Each of them would approach the 
voivoda respectfully and demand per- 
mission to whisper in his car. He would 
then very privately communicate his in- 
telligence to the voivoda, who in his turn 

would inform us thai there was no salt 
or bread to be had. Thereupon, our 
cooks, with a. bow to us, would withdraw 
with a contented air, as a good ho. se- 
wife does in America alter she has ma- 
ligned her own cookery in the presence 
of her guests, and given a hundred 
reasons why it is worse than usual. 



68*5 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

We wore too wearv to eat much, but upon their toilets; upon the breasts of 

we drank refreshing draughts of the cool Peko and one or two of his companions 

water, and made our way speedily to the Russian medals glittered. The sun's 

cellar-room, where we lav down upon rays threw a halo around the picturesque 

the straw with Tomo as guard in front, little group, and for a moment the sheen 

of the door, stretched out with his head of the weapons worn by all was dazzling. 

in the smoke. The arrival of a Turkish The voivoda, in his green tunic, and with 

battalion could hardly have succeeded his fine head bared to the morning breeze, 

in awakening us. and the innumerable was a noble figure. Each chief as he 

wood-lice and bugs native to the locality delivered his opinion stood up in the 

only did it once. middle of the circle and spoke in low, 

It was dawn at three o'clock. Tomo, solemn tones, sometimes gravely ges- 

building the lire, aroused us. In a few ticulating with his pipe. (July one or 

minutes he brought us cups of hot, fra- two of tin 1 men showed signs of anger 

grant coffee, made in the Turkish fash- or excitement, and that was when they 

ion. We seemed endowed with new pointed to the mountain ridge beyond 

strength ; our fatigues of yesterday were which the Turks were encamped in their 

forgotten. The cool air rushing in fortresses. 

through the stone aperture which served The twenty-live hundred insurgents 
for a window was inspiring. In an hour were busy polishing their arms, prepar- 
more the camp was astir. Warriors who inn their coffee, — which appeared to lie 
hail sung persistently until the small the only breakfast that they took, — and 
hours appeared fresh and prepared for singing, or rather crooning, their monot- 
war. We went down into the streets or onous melodies. A small party was de- 
lanes, and soon mot the voivoda walk- tailed to CTOSS the Austrian frontier and 
in" leisurely to and fro, with his hands descend to the town of Ragusa for the 
clasped behind him. '-The council of bread, furnished by an " insurrectionary 
war is called for six o'clock,'' he said, committee" composed of sympathetic 
•• and you must see ii . Only, pray do not Slavs, whose breach of neutrality was 
come too near to it. as some chief might winked at by the Austrian government, 
fancy his sense of dignity offended." Toward seven o'clock the sentries who 

We promised, and at six, as the hills had been watching all night on the peaks 

all around resounded to the pipes of the round about the camp came in weary 

shepherds who were leading their thicks and famished with hunger, and reported 

of goats to their favorite pasturage, we that they had left others in their places, 

climbed to a little eminence where grew As soon as the council broke up, huri- 

some grass and a U-\\ stunted trees, dreds of men pressed about the chiefs, 

There a dozen chiefs were seated in a anxious to learn their decision; ami a 

circle, with the voivoda in the centre, joyous shout, which would not have been 

Their gravity was as stern and uurelent- at all relished by the Turks had they 

ing as that of our Indians. Most of the heard it. announced that another march 

men were smoking, but the Herzegovi- and an offensive movement had been 

nan rarely lays aside his pipe save when resolved upon. 

he sleeps or tights. It is second nature Then came the gathering of the com- 

to him to smoke. The Montenegrin panies. There was no pretence at a for- 

chiefs had bestowed some little attention mal review : the nature of the ground 



F.riWPE LV STORM AND CALM. 



687 



would not have permitted it. and the 
men were hardly well enough disciplined 
for it. They needed no training: they 
followed their leaders blindly, and foughi 
desperately, in the Herzegovinan fash- 
ion, from behind the rocks and ledges, 
as long as their ammunition lusted, and 
then they retreated. The voivoda pasaed 
from group to group of the insurgents, 
talking cheerfully and familiarly with 
all ; then he dismissed them with a wave 
of his hands, and turned to us, saying, 
" These men will march all through to- 
night, fight all day to-morrow, clamber 
among the rocks lor hours after the hat- 
tie, ami will go without food and water 
for twenty-four hours at a time. If they 
hut hail modern guns and plenty of am- 
munition ! " 

The testimony of a young French offi- 
cer who had joined the insurgent forces, 
and who was proving a very efficient aid 
to the voivoda, was that these men fought 
well, and even witli skill, seeming by in- 
stinct to understand many things in war- 
fare which men of other countries must 
learn. Every one of them had regis- 
tered a solemn vow that he would never 
quit- the field until the Turks were driven 
from Herzegovina or he were dead : 
and all have kept their word. The in- 
surrection became a war; the voivoda 
was unluckily divested of his command 
by the tyrannical action of the Austrian 
government officials, who perhaps feared 
that the Slavs in Austrian territory 
might l>e urged to imprudent interven- 
tion in Turkish affairs by the influence 
of his splendid example ; hut neither 
Peko nor any of the other chiefs, nor any 
humblest Herzegovinan, will ever forget 
that to the voivoda Ljubibratic, the leader 
and master, was the first great movement 
for freedom in Herzegovina due. 

Noon came, and the insurgents pre- 
pared to break camp. "We set out upon 



our return journey. The voivoda gave 
us an escort, and himself accompanied 
us to a point near the frontier. Leaning 
against a huge rock he talked for an 
hour in his grave, stern way of his hopes, 
his fears, his ambitions. For merciless 
war to the Turk he was fully inclined : he 
fell that he had men enough, but no 
proper arms, and but little moral support 
from the outside world. " We shall 
make no concessions." he said simply, 
'• and we will never lay down our arms." 
I am glad to note that the veteran Peko 
has carried out these principles to the 

letter. 

Ljubibratic looked heroic, as he stood 
with his arms folded across his massive 
chest, and with his figure braced against 
the bowlder, which rose gigantic, casting 
a shadow over us all as we gazed upon 
him. It was by no means an agreeable 
task for a man of his culture and breed- 
ing to go back to daily association with 
and constant peril among the rough 
men in the camp behind him, — to the 
petty dissensions of the chiefs and the 
squalid huts on the rocky hills. — but he 
never wavered for an instant before that 
which he conceived to be his duty. It 
was evident that the men felt lost with- 
out his constant presence, for he had not 
been with us long before little squads 
followed him from the village and tried 
in a hundred ways to attract his atten- 
tion. When his hour's talk was finished 
he sainted our whole party with that dig- 
nified and friendly kiss upon both checks 
which is so universal a form of salutation 
in Servia and in many of the adjacent 
provinces. We bade him good-by, and 
fell to scrambling Ragusa-ward over the 
rocks. At a descent in the path we 
turned, and saw him still standing with his 
eyes fixed upon us. He waved his hand ; 
we responded with shouts, then descended 
into the valley, and saw him no more. 



(i.S.S EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CII A PTER SEVENTY-EIGHT. 

The Montenegrins. The Inhabitants <>i' the Black Mountain. -An Unconqnercd Race. — Amongthe 
Rocks. — The Implacable Enemies of ihc Turks. — A Valiant Little Army. — The Montenegrin 
Women. The Ohl Prince-Bishops of Montenegro. 

I SAW my first Montenegrin as I was ing trousers; <>n his feet were the 

leaving the pretty port of Spalatro, opank&s, or cowhide sandals, of his 

on tho Adriatic sea, for Ragusa in Dal- native land, and on his head was the 

matia. I had been wandering for weeks round cap with the red top which every 

among (he warlike Serbs and Bosnians, Montenegrin seems to feel it his sacred 

along the noble rivers which divide Aus- duty to wear. But I looked in vain for 

tria from Turkey in Europe, and had any symptoms of ferocity or of military 

seen many line specimens of the Slavic fervor in this innocent child's face, over 

race, but whenever 1 had ventured to which the soft Adriatic breezes played 

praise the manly qualities which 1 had almost caressingly. Was this, then, a 

so often observed,] was always answered, representative of the dreaded mountain- 

" Von have not seen the Montenegrins." eers whom the Turks feared as they 

It was true, and I was constrained to tear to lose Paradise ; of the people who 

silence. Yet it did not seem to me thai esteem most him who has beheaded 

there could be, even in the redoubtable the greatest number of enemies in battle ; 

Montenegro, the " Black Mountain " of of the little band who fought the French 

which such wondrous stories were told, so fiercely at the beginning of this een- 

meii superior in Strength of body, in turv. and whose descendants have so 

symmetry ami suppleness of limb, in often since made the Mussulmans lower 

heroism and patriotism combined with their standards on the plains of Grahovo? 

stern ferocity and Sterling honesty of Was this the type for which I had been 

purpose, to my good friends of Servia prepared by so many thrilling anecdotes 

and Bosnia. [ looked forward , however, of heroic actions among the crags and 

to a great surprise some daw and had along the edges of tin' precipices in the 

awaited the appearance of the first Mon- Tsernagora? I was about to turn away, 

tenegrin type with impatient curiosity. incredulously smiling, when the boy, as 

When I saw this type I was lor a if he were conscious of having been 

moment grievously disappointed. Just keenly observed, turned toward us half 

as the ruined walls of Diocletian's palace defiantly, and then for the first time 

were fading in the horizon, and our [ noticed that the girdle which he wore 

little steamer was running well out. to about his waist was literally crammed 

sea, my attention was called by a fellow- with weapons. An enormous yataghan, 

passenger to a boy of fourteen or fifteen whose lull was incrusted with silver, and 

who stood among the pea-ants and which seemed too huge for the bo\ to 

soldiers on the lower deck. Theboywas swing unless he used both hands, was 

dressed in a while tunic and gray How- the prominent object in this peranum- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



689 



luting arsenal. Grouped around it wen 1 
two huge, ungainly pistols, each nearly 
as long as the yataghan, a dagger con- 
cealed in a sheath curiously inlaid with 
silver, and a knife such as every Dal- 
matian and Montenegrin invariably 
carries, finding it equally convenient to 
thrust into his enemy's heart or to cut 
the pieces of roasted kid which he eats 
for his supper. 

As the boy turned he instinctively 
placed one hand upon the hilt of his 
yataghan. The gesture had nothing of 
menace in it. but it was a fitting revela- 
tion of the national characteristic. Alert, 
vigorous, shapely, keen, the young 
mountaineer's attitude at last excited 
my admiration, and I finally accepted 
him as the type of his race, expect- 
ing nevertheless soon to encounter speci- 
mens more in accordance with my earliest 
ideal. 

During the two days' voyage which 
followed my companion entered into the 
good graces of the young Montenegrin, 
and found that this sublime boy was 
already a noted warrior ; that he had 
left his native peaks and rocks because 
he wished to aid the Christians in Bosnia 
against the Turks, and, having fought 
well there, had been sent on a mission to 
Trieste, whence he was then returning. 
What was his mission? Ah, that was a 
secret! He shook his head and looked 
fierce when some one suggested that he 
had been sent to buy arms for the Her- 
zegovinan insurgents. Once he smiled 
scornfully, and then he said in a quick, 
fierce tone, "When we want arms we 
take them from the Turks." History 
certainly confirms this assertion. In 
1858, during some of the many disputes 
between Turkey and Montenegro, the 
Montenegrins fell upon an invading 
army vastly superior in numbers to their 
own and disarmed it. A few weeks later 



an Austrian officer who had visited the 
Black Mountain announced that he had 
seen two thousand two hundred and 
thirty-seven skeletons of Turkish soldiers 
on the field where this "disarmament" 
occurred. 

He who wanders among the rocks of 
Montenegro readily understands the char- 
acter of the people. The little prin- 




MOXTEXEGRINS ON THE WATCH. 

eipality has without doubt a more re- 
markable situation than any other country 
in the world. Travellers who have looked 
down upon it from the summit of Mt. 
Lovchen, its dominating peak, say that 
it resembles an immense petrified sea. 
As far as the eye can reach in any direc- 
tion nothing is to be seen but vast stony 
waves and wrinkles in the black surface 
of the rocks, — waves and wrinkles 
which, if one were close to them, would 
prove gigantic precipices, yawning 
chasms, valleys deep and sheltered, in 
which a few hardy Montenegrin women 
watch the goats and sheep cropping the 



600 EUROTE IN STURM AND CALM. 

short grasses among the stones. In this him. The struggle, the hatred, was 
delicious southern climate the cloudless never greater than now, ■ was Monte- 
blue sky in summer arches tenderly negro ever bolder, for behind her stands 
above these frowning and terrible rocks, a power whose prudence in aiding her 
these colossal walls, and one is led to against the Turk is only exceeded by its 
wonder why, instead of this oppressive firmness ami the immensity of its re- 
aml appalling desolation, he does not sources, — a power that is feared in 
see hundreds of rich vineyards with Turkey, formidable and determined in 
their purpling fruits gleaming in the sun. Russia. 

or groves of olives, or lawns watered by Bosnia, Herzegovina, and Montene- 

picturesque rivers, rushing seaward past gro all formed a part of the ancient 

flower-strewn banks. But the Montene- country of the Dalmatians, which was 

grin never asks himself these questions, united to the Roman empire under Tibe- 

Born aimine (he rocks, he loves them, rius. These various territories were 

and would on no conditions exchange settled, toward the middle of the seventh 

them for the pleasures of fertile valleys century, by the Slavic tribes which 

or fruitful hill-sides. He loves to cele- came from beyond the Carpathian moun- 

brate in his songs the charms of the tains. Had these tribes been united 

paths along- the dizzy eminences where permanently, they would to-day have 

he only can tread freely; h< mpares formed one of the most powerful nations 

himself to the falcon ; he is in his "lory in Europe, lint up to the date of the 

when his province is invaded, ami he is Ottoman conquest they wwc generally 

at liberty to fight from rock to rock, to separate and distinct. Bosnia was ruled 

lie in wait foi' hours behind piles of by kings, Herzegovina by dukes, and 

stones, to leap exultant into the very Montenegro by vladikas, or prince- 

midst of his foes, brandishing his sword, bishops. The people of each province 

and shouting "Glory to the people! " did deeds of valor, but all save Monte- 

The frontiers of Montenegro have negro succumbed before the fury of the 

always been uncertain. For several Ottoman sword. The mountaineers have 

centuries the territory has varied in ex- for four hundred and fifty years kept the 

lent according to its fortunes in war. Turk at bay, although he has succeeded 

Never for a moment owning the domina- in maintaining a foothold in every one 

lion of the Turks, its people have been of their kindred provinces except l)al- 

constantly embroiled with them, and matia, which is protected by the Austrian 

have kept such frontiers as they chose flag. 

to establish as long as they could by Montenegro is bounded on the north 

force of arms. From time to time the and north- west by Herzegovina, on the 

Turks have succeeded in forcing their north-east and east by Bosnia, and on 

way in; then the Montenegrins have the south-east and east by Albania, 

risen and reasserted their rights by and on the south-west by Dalmatia. In 

driving out the enemy, and by cutting form its boundaries are not unlike a 

off the heads of all Turks left on the rudely shaped star. B had no outlet 

battle-field. The Montenegrin was and upon the Adriatic sea until after the 

is cradled to the sound of songs which Russo-Turkish war, since the Austrians 

tell him to hate (he Turk and to kill him held the port of Cattaro, one of the 

whenever and wherever he may meet loveliest spots in Southern Europe, 



EUROPE IN STollM AND CALM. 



fi91 



which would have been the most practi- 
cable port for the Montenegrins ; and 
Dulcigno, the next best, was in the pos- 
session of Turkey. The latter town, with 
its surrounding district, was surrendered 
to Montenegro under pressure of the 
great powers, in 1880. The principal 
route to its capital among the rocks and 
crags, and arrived at only by the paths 
through seemingly inaccessible moun- 
tains, leads from Cattaro, which the 
traveller may reach by steamer from 
Trieste in a little more than four days. 
One's first impression on gazing at the 
rocks around Cattaro is that he is dream- 
ing. Everything seems fantastic, un- 
real, stagey; one is reminded of a fairy 
scene in a spectacle at a theatre. The 
Dalmatian coast, witii its vast crags 
towering skyward, touched here and there 
with white, which contrasts admirably 
with their arid, reddish garb of stone, 
docs not prepare one for the wonders 
into whose presence he is ushered at the 
" Bocca di Cattaro." 

The name Montenegro, according to 
that amiable patrician of Cattaro, Mari- 
ano Bolizza, who explored the country at 
the beginning of the seventeenth century, 
and made a report upon it to the Vene- 
tian republic, was given to this section 
by the Turks, because its gloomy re- 
cesses were associated in their minds 
with so many attacks from enemies 
whom they could never see or seize. 
Whoever gave the land the name, its 
appropriateness cannot be questioned. 
When the traveller crosses the lake of 
Scutari, in Albania, and sees before him 
an impenetrable amphitheatre of moun- 
tains clad in most sombre colors, of 
rocky surfaces filled with an infinite 
number of recesses where the shadows 
gather, and of uplands covered in sum- 
mer with thick but dark foliage, and in 
winter with nothing save the blackened 



skeletons of boughs, he will strive in 
vain to discover a better appellation for 
such a panorama than .Montenegro. 

The population of this little princi- 
pality is barely one hundred and ninety 
thousand ; and fully one-third of the men 
are nearly always absent from home, 
engaged in warlike expeditions. The 
Montenegrins welcomed the Ilerzego- 
vinan insurrection with joy, because it 
gave them a new chance to tight and to 
kill Turks. They could hardly persuade 
themselves to obey the injunction which 
their prince was compelled to serve 
upou them, not to aid the insurrection 
by organized action in large bodies. 
They vanished across the frontier two by 
two, and found their way into the various 
head-quarters of the insurgent chiefs, 
where they were received as men who 
would never yield to the Turk nor listen 
to his promises. So inflamed with rage 
against the Moslems are the Montene- 
grins of late years that they cannot even 
hear the latter mentioned without grasp- 
ing their weapons convulsively. At the 
battle near Utowo, in the autumn of 
1875 these fiery mountaineers broke 
ranks and rushed with drawn knives 
upon the battalions of Turks. Nothing 
could withstand them, and the Turks, 
throwing away their guns, tied as if the 
foul fiend were after them. 

The country is divided into provinces, 
or natrie, as they are called, four be- 
longing to Montenegro proper, and four 
to the Berda, the name given to the moun- 
tainous district in the interior. Each 
of these provinces is subdivided into 
plemena, which correspond to the can- 
tons of Switzerland, and the plemena 
are divided into villages. Every prov- 
ince lias a distinctly marked type of 
inhabitant ; people who live but a few 
miles apart are radically dissimilar in 
temperament, in stature, and in methods 



092 



EUROPE LN STORM AND CALM. 



of thougbl ; :iinl this is the most curious 
of the many peculiarities of Montenegro. 
The finest type of the mountaineer and 
warrior is tin- man six feet tall, with 
grave, thoughtful face, which contrasts 
singularly with his quick, nervous gait, 
lie generally lias high cheek-bones, like 
an Indian; his eye is black and pierc- 
ing; his lips are shaded by a square 
black mustache; there is a slight stoop 
in his shoulders, accounted for by the 
fact that he is constantly bending for- 
ward as he ascends difficult heights ; 
his feet are hum'. Bat, and ungraceful, 
made for the solid business of gripping 
the rocks and clinging to them. The 
Montenegrin of every type is by no 
means devoid of tact; he is artful in 
deception when dealing with an enemy ; 
fond of ambush and stratagem ; cruel, 
sanguinary, and unappeasable in re- 
venge; enthusiastic in his friendships; 
not given to sudden anger, but slow to 
repent of wrath, even though he may be 
in the wrong. He is probably the most 
agile human being on the soil of 
Europe. He can go anywhere that the 
chamois can. The goats sometimes 
hesitate to follow their Montenegrin 
shepherds when there is a dangerous 
pass to be crossed. Every inhabitant 
of the principality, man, woman, or 
child, possesses the most extraordinary 
power of enduring hunger and thirst. 
The men will march for days among the 
rocks, eating nothing but coarse bread 
made from bitter roots, and now and 
then descending into the valleys to taste 
the brackish water in the pools. He 
who cannot endure tremendous fatigue 
is looked upon as worthless in Montene- 
gro ; the women frown upon him, and 
his fellow-men abhor him. Dming the 
last century the warriors now and then 
degenerated into banditti, and some- 
times made fierce raids along the fron- 



tiers ; lint this practice was so sternly 
relinked in L796 by one of their rulers 
that it has now quite fallen into decay. 
The Turks are molested by their warlike 
neighbors only on occasions when some 
new broil between the two nationalities 
has occurred. There is a deep religious 
feeling among all classes; even the 
rudest warrior, when he arrives on the 
hills from which he can look down to 
the monastery at Tsettiuje. will doff his 
cap and with bared head will murmur 
a prayer. In the insurgent camp in 
Herzegovina I frequently saw Monte- 
grins who were known to be extremely 
cruel in battle entering a wayside cot- 
tage with the peaceful salutation of 
" God lie with you ! " or with the words, 

"By my God, by thy God!" The 
effusive Slavic manners prevail among 
these rough men. They kiss when they 
meet and part ; they hold each other 
clasped in fast embrace for a moment, 
then they separate gravely and deco- 
rously. Tin- stranger among them is 
treated with the same cordiality, unless 
he manifest a disposition to resent it. 

The Montenegrins have frequently 
been accused of slavery to superstition; 
but this is a slander. There are some 
few remnants of superstitious practices 
among them, but these are fast fading 
out. They are far too healthy and vig- 
orous beings to become the prey of any 
absurdities. Their bearing is wonder- 
fully fine ; their sight is so acute that one 
fancies them boasting when they tell him 
how far they can sec. Their accuracy 
of aim is remarkable. During the insur- 
rection of 18G9 the Austrian soldiers 
attempted to coerce some of the moun- 
taineers near Cattaro into obedience to 
the conscription laws. The riflemen of the 
insurgents shot into the loop-holes of a 
fortress which they were besieging, and 
did it with such precision that no Aus- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND C 1/ I/. 



693 



trian soldier could maintain his position 
near the embrasures. The Montengrin 
rarely misses his aim, and when he does 
he considers it a personal dishonor, which 
can only be wiped out by some glorious 
deed. 

The popes or priests of the Greek 
Church, to which the Montenegrins ad- 
here, are fully as warlike as their pa- 
rishioners. Half a dozen of them are 
prominent among the leaders in the Iler- 
zegovinan insurrection. They rejoice 
in the deeds which one would imagine 
their religion would compel them to re- 
prove. At night they gather around 
them the young and old men, and with 
musical voices, although to a monotonous 
chant, they recite the valorous deeds of 
their ancestors, and do not forget those 
which they have done themselves. They 
love to point to the trophies which they 
have taken from the dead bodies of their 
enemies, and to recount the slaughter 
necessary to secure them. At Tsettinje 
there is a priest who was a brave guerilla 
chieftain in one of the recent wars. 
Many a Turk has he sent to the other 
world ; and he is very proud of it. On 
the breast of his robe are sewn a dozen 
decorations which he has received for 
deeds of valor. Nothing is more com- 
mon than to see a child of twelve or 
thirteen who has already been in a 
dozen battles, and who bears as many 
scars on his body. 

The formation of a regular military 
system in Montenegro has been of great 
service in preventing many jealousies 
and avoiding numerous bloody feuds. 
There are at present two strong divisions 
of ten thousand men, each under the 
command of the prince, and armed with 
excellent modern weapons. In this val- 
iant little body there is a chance for pro- 
motion, and the genius and skill which 
have hitherto been wasted in desultory 



warfare are concentrated. The army 
has a general-in-chief, known :is the voi- 
voda, and other voivodas hold ranks cor- 
responding to those of division and briga- 
dier generals. The Montenegrin woman 
is in many respects an object of pity to 
the travellers who pass through the 
strange little principality ; but there is no 
woman in the country who would nol tie 
grievously offended at any show of sym- 
pathy. To work incessantly and to suf- 
fer is the destiny of the women of this 
race. They are not even welcomed into 
the world : a Montenegrin father, when 
asked by his neighbor what the sex of 
his new-born child is, answers, "God 
pardon me! it is a girl;" sometimes he 
says, " It is a serpent," which is a poeti- 
cal manner of expressing his regret at 
the birth of a daughter. The girl grows 
up neglected, and often cursed ; she 
carries fagots of wood on her head, in 
order that she may earn a few coins with 
which to buy arms for her brothers. 
She has no youth; at twenty-five she 
seems already old. She is married 
young, and bears and cares for her chil- 
dren while supporting labor in the fields 
which would be hard even for strong 
men. She trembles before her father, 
her brother, her husband ; she only 
awakens to freedom and independence of 
action when excited by the noise of the 
combat, to which she frequently follows 
the warriors. She luges them on, and 
loads their guns, and dresses their 
wounds. The Montenegrin woman is 
rarely beautiful of feature, and the coarse 
work which she performs soon ruins her 
form. Her virtue is beyond reproach; 
intrigues are unknown in Montenegro, 
and gallantry would find a sharp reproof 
at the point of a yataghan. The women 
wander unattended wherever I hey please 
throughout the country ; for while a 
Montenegrin warrior would never think 



694 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

of relieving a woman from the heavy courage and his prowess in front of the 

burden of fagots or provisions which she enemy. 

may be fainting under, and while he may, This overworked and much-abused 

perhaps, rail at her for her weakness, lie creature 1ms one gracious accomplish- 

would not by word or deed offer her ment: the Montenegrin woman is ex- 

the slightest insult. The woman is ceedingly expert in embroideries, and 

almost servile with regard to her 1ms- they are a prominent feature of the 

band; if she sees him coming along the national costume. The women work at 

road, she turns off, or passes him rapidly, them when they are walking along the 

that he may not be compelled to recog- roads bearing upon their heads burdens 

ni/.e her. Should the warrior be seen which seem heavy enough to crush a 

wasting his time in loitering by his wife's pack-horse. 

side, he would be subjected t<> reproach White is the national color, and the 
from the elders in the village. A few very height of Montenegrin elegance is 
years since one could not have found a white tunic embroidered with gold. A 
in the whole (if Montenegro cue woman garmenl of this kind sometimes costs 
knowing how to read or write ; latterly more than $300. The ordinary costume 
some few schools, to which women have of the warrior consists of a. tunic de- 
access, have been established. scending to the knee and confined at the 
The duties of hospitality all fall upon waist by a girdle ; a huge waistcoat, the 
the woman. it i^ she who unlaces the top of which shows above the loose 
boots of the stranger when he arrives, tunic, and is generally embroidered in 
anil who washes his feet, who serves at "old or studded with precious stones; 
the table, ami holds the flaming pine- and trousers of the Turkish pattern, 
knot by which the others see to eat. made of blue cloth, and knotted below 
The husband does not even notice his the knees by garters. 
wife, unless it be to request some menial The prince ami one or two other high 
service of her. dignitaries wear a cloak of red cloth. 
It is a wonder Montenegrin babies very rich and graceful, over all the other 
ever live through the severe course of garments. Every warrior wears a small 
swaddling which they undergo from their girdle, called the Jcolan, which is made 
earliest day until they are weaned. They of leather or red morocco, and is divided 
are strapped to boards and slung over into compartments intended for pistols, 
the back's of their mothers, and thus, daggers, and yataghan. Every boy 
winter and summer, they make long wears one from earliest childhood, but 
journeys in the mountains and among until he can be trusted with a. pistol is 
the rocks. allowed to carry only such innocent play- 
When the husband falls ill it is not the things as a dagger and small sword, 
wife who cans for him, but his parents. The strouka is a garment common too 
Etiquette demands that the wife should both sexes. It is a. broad ami long 
appear indifferent to his condition, ami woollen scarf with tasselled ends, some- 
should attend to her duties in house ami what resembling the blanket worn in 
field as if he were in no danger. Hut Southern Spain, and is woven by the old 
when he dies she is expected to burst women who can no longer bring wood 
into loud lamentations, ami in all the from the mountains. This blanket is the 
country round sing the praises of his Montenegrin's only protection from wind 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



695 



or rain or biting cold ; and a local prov- 
erb says, " Rain or shine, take j'our 
strouJca with you : you can sleep under 
it or on it." The opankb, or hide slip- 
per, which the mountaineers, men and 
women, wear, is clumsy in shape, but 
wonderfully convenient for rock-climb- 
ing. The Austrian soldiers in the moun- 
tains near Cattaro endeavored to adopt 
the opank&s for chasing' insurgents, but 
they discovered that it requires long 
practice to learn how to walk in them. 
They are tied on with a multitude of 
strings, and it is a work of art to learn 
how to slip them off speedily. 

The costume of the women is not un- 
graceful. The chief article is the Ion-/, 
a long basque without sleeves, which 
descends to the knee. If the family be 
rich, this gown is sometimes embroid- 
ered with costly stuffs. But, whether 
a woman be rich or poor, she usually 
wears an apron made of silk or of some 
glistening material, and an ample girdle 
surmounted with an object very much 
like an enormous door-plate. Into this 
girdle she thrusts all her sewing mate- 
rials, her dagger, her jewels, and such 
of her broideries as she does not wish 
for the moment to display. Until the 
day of their marriage the women wear 
round caps exactly like those worn by 
the men. From that moment they always 
appear in public wearing the marama, a, 
vast kerchief of silk or wool, which 
completely conceals their hair and falls 
down to the waist, covering the shoul- 
ders and giving the wearer the look of 
a nun. 

The lupii, which the male Montene- 
grin wears as his head covering, has its 
legend, poetic and sanguinary. The 
warrior mivs that the red ground of the 
cap signifies the lake of blood into which 
the country has been plunged ever since 
the great and disastrous battle of Ko- 



sovo ; that the black border denotes the 
veil of mourning extended over the 
whole section; that the golden disk 
shown emerging from this funereal crape, 
and surrounded with an aureole, is the 
Montenegrin sun rising on a bloody 
horizon, but rising to warm into new 
life with its generous rays a regenerate 
and liberated race. No warrior of the 
" Black Mountain" country would wear 
any other head covering than this Jcapa 
for any consideration whatever. 

In the old days the Montenegrin via- 
dikas, or prince-bishops, had entire pos- 
session of the civil, military, and re- 
ligious power of the country, and the 
populations, bound to them by mysteri- 
ous reverence, were passionately devoted 
to their service. Peter II. was the last 
of the vladikas. He died in 1851, after 
a singularly brilliant and satisfactory 
career, during which lie did much to 
soften the manners of his people. In 
his early youth he had been a shepherd, 
Imt he was subsequently educated in 
Russia. Some years before his death 
he .showed rare poetical taste, and on 
the different occasions when he visited 
European capitals he was recognized as 
a man of marked talent in literature. 
Dying, he designated his nephew Da- 
nilo to succeed him. When Daniloeame 
to the throne he announced his inten- 
tion of relinquishing the old theocratic 
power with which his family hail been 
invested for a century and a half, and 
that he would content himself with reign- 
ing as civil and military chief of the 
country. The senate ratified this deter- 
mination, the Russian Government lent 
its powerful support to the new pro- 
gramme, and Montenegro became an 
absolute monarchy under the hereditary 
government of a prince. Danilo's as- 
sassination at Cattaro. in August of 18G0, 
bv a returned exile, brought to the throne 



696 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM 

the present prince, Nicholas I., a man showed great skill in managing his res- 

of rare talents, fine sympathies, and con- tive people and in responding smoothly 

siderable tact in politics. All who have to the irritating demands of the Turkish 

seen this prince in his simple palace envoys, who only sought an excuse for 

among the rocks at Tsettiuje unite in invading his territory. The forts which 

according him generous praise. In the Turkey is allowed to maintain on the 

troublous moments of the autumn of Montenegrin border are a perpetual 

1878, when imprudent action on the part menace to the independence of the little 

of Montenegro might have precipitated principality, ami are the cause of dozens 

all Europe in war. Prince Nicholas of skirmishes yearly. 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



697 



< 1 1 AFTER SEVENTY-NINE. 



Prince Nicholas of Monteiit 



-The Outpost of Russia. — The Montenegrin Capital. 
Turks. — Legends of Tsernagora. 



Battle with the 



PRINCE Nicholas has evidently a 
higher opinion <if women than 
most of his countrymen have, for when 
he visited Rnssiti. in 1869, lie left the 
regency in the hands of Milena Niko- 
lawa, his wife, a lady of much beauty 
and rare character. The visit of the 
prince to St. Petersburg was not without 
political significance. From that time 
may be said to date the public ac- 
knowledgment of the species of pro- 
tectorate which Russia has established 
over Montenegro. Russia has made of 
this little star-shaped province her avant- 
poste in the East. It was even said 
jestingly in Austria that Mr. Alexan- 
dre Yonine, the Russian consul at Ra- 
gusa, the chief Dalmatian town near the 
•• Black Mountain,'* was the real prince 
of Montenegro, because through him it 
was believed that the Russian government 
directed the policy which, with the aid of 
Montenegro and Montenegrin enthusi- 
asm, it hopes to carry out. By sup- 
porting Prince Nicholas in his mountain 
home in his battles against the Turks, 
and by aiding Prince Milan in Servia to 
continue rebellious, Russia was steadily 
preparing the downfall of the Turkish 
power in Europe and the reuniting of 
all the long-separated branches of the 
Serbo-Shivic family. 

The prince voluntarily abdicated many 
of his rights as absolute monarch in 
1868, and the Montenegrin senate now 
has very large powers. But the prince 
is still all powerful in matters of foreign 



policy, and the people are quite content 
that in those his will should be the law. 
The route from Cattaro to Tsettinje 
runs through one of the prettiest valleys 
in Montenegro, — a valley which gives 
its name to the reigning dynasty, — 
the Niegroch. But after the charms of 
Cattaro even the Niegroch seems savage 
and forbidding. Cattaro has grand old 
villas with red roofs, terraces loaded 
with luxuriant blossoms, eminences 
crowned with poplars and acacias. 
Out of the labyrinth of crooked but 
cleanly streets peer little gardens whose 
rows of shrubs and flowering plants are 
fantastically trimmed. Over dingy and 
massive balconies huge ancient vines 
wind and turn in loving and clinging 
profusion and confusion. At each step 
one comes upon half-ruined memorials 
of Byzantine architecture; a sculptured 
balustrade is seen through a grove of 
orange trees ; among the citrons one 
ctin dimly discern capitals of mouldering 
pillars, porticoes, artistic bits of iron 
and steel decoration fastened upon the 
fronts of mansions, all the chaste and 
elegant remnants of a vanished past. 
Here onelooksshudderinglyforthe shades 
of the Saracens who held the old town in 
the ninth century, long titter the Romans 

— who esteemed it one of their best ports 
when they held Dalinatia in their grip 

— had been forgotten. Many masters 
have held Cattaro siuce then ; the Vene- 
tians left their mark upon it ; the kings 
of Bosnia thought it one of their best 



698 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



strongholds; then the Venetians took if 
again, and kepi it fur nearly four hun- 
dred years, making it one of the centres 
of the arts, the learning, and the mili- 
tary genius of the period. From 17;i7 
until 1808 Cattaro was successively 
Austrian, French, Russian, French 
again, and, finally, in 1814, came once 
more under Austrian domination. The 
population of the surrounding district 
lias never liked the Austrian*, and rarely 
misses an occasion to testify its repug- 
nance. The commerce of the town is 
with the Montenegrins, and so are the 
sympathies of its merchants. It is a 
brave little fortress-ridden community, 
which the rocks seem determined to 
push off into the sea, but which main- 
tains its hold, and serenely survives 
earthquakes, revolutions, and changes 
of government. Were it not for the 
few stiff and awkward soldiers whom 
one sees strutting about the entry of the 
port one could with difficulty persuade 
himself that Cattaro is an Austrian 
town, for the Montenegrin men and 
women arc everywhere to lie seen in the 
narrow streets. Every mountaineer, as 
he arrives at the dividing line between 
the city and the country, is compelled to 
deposit his arms with a frontier guard, 
when he is going into Austria. This he 
considers a great indignity, and it is the 
source of frequent recriminations, and 
sometimes of bloody quarrels. In the 
market, on the outskirts of the town, the 
hardy Montenegrin is allowed to bear 
his weapons about with him. 

The traveller leaves tin- stony hemi- 
cycle of the pori, the charms of Cattaro, 
and enters upon a zigzag route dug in 
the side of the rocks when he departs 

for Tscttinjc. 'I"he prudent wanderer 
will start before dawn; for as soon as 
the ^llli develops its fervor the ascent is 
almost perilous. On the arid .surface 



the heat beats down with terrific effect. 
Then 1 is no comfort in the gleam of the 
distant blue sea. Above, the crags 
tower, pitiless and gigantic. The path 
or staircase winds round and round, 
never continuing more than a few yards 
in a straight line. The very monotony of 
those abrupt turns becomes inexpres- 
sibly wearisome. Sure-footed mules, 
driven by women or children, and loaded 
with wool, with fish, or with grain, often 
blockade tin- way, and the traveller is 
sometimes at his wits' end to contrive 
an escape from some abyss into which 
the crowding caravans seem about to 
urge him. If one escapes without seri- 
ous adventure in his journey up this 
tortuous path, he finds himself presently 
entering upon a wider but still more 
rocky route, and at last reaches the 
valley of Niegroeh, in a little nook of 
which Prince Nicholas was born, and 
where, in a quaint villa, erected some 
years since, the royal family passes 
some portion of every summer. 

The journey from Cattaro to Tsettinje' 
occupies live hours of active climbing ; 
and if the Montenegrin guide is in a 
communicative mood, and persists in 
telling you, in his poetical and rich 
Scrbo-Slavic language, the legend of 
every stone which lies by the way, a 
whole day may be readily consumed. 
Tscttinjc is a little village composed of 
two streets among the rocks. There 
are sixty or seventy small white cot- 
tages, the interiors of which arc by no 
means so invitingly clean as one could 
desire. One or two of the residences 
perhaps merit the name of mansions; 
these served in past days as the habita- 
tions cf princes. The hall occupied by 
the present Montenegrin senate, the 
government printing office, the arsenal, 
the treasury, and the ••archives'' is 
small, and quite devoid of any architect- 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



699 



ural pretensions. Onec upon a time it 
was the royal palace ; and because a 
billiard table was brought to it on the 

backs of men from Cattaro, the people 
of the neighborhood to this day call it 
Bigliardo. The "palace" at present 
occupied by Prince Nicholas is a very 
plain, one-story edifice. It once pos- 
sessed a roof covered with lead, but 
there came a time when bullets were 
much needed, and the lead was wrenched 
off and used to kill Turks with. This 
was but one of many free-will offerings 
from the prince to his people for the 
common safety- Under a great tree in 
the centre of the village the warriors 
meet when rumors of battle are in the 
air. They sit in a semi-circle, smoke 
much, talk little, decide quickly, and 
then go forth to slaughter. If they 
need any inspiration they have only tr 
turn their gaze in the direction of the 
" Turks' Tower," a small, round edifice 
on a high rock which overlooks the 
town. On this tower it has been from 
time immemorial the custom to nail the 
heads of decapitated enemies. The 
prince who preceded Nicholas sup- 
pressed this public barbarism; but 
neither he nor his successor will ever 
succeed in preventing the Montenegrin 
who has slain a Turk in battle from 
cutting off his head. Unimpeachable 
witnesses assert that fifty-five Turkish 
heads were brought away from the fight 
at Utowo ; and Peko the Terrible, who 
was one of the most active of the 
Montenegrin agents in the Ilerzegovinan 
insurrection, himself told me that the 
practice of dissecting an enemy still pre- 
vails among his people. 

The venerable monastery of Tset- 
tinje is the only picturesque building in 
the whole neighborhood. It was erected 
at the close of the fifteenth century by 
niie of the vladikas, near the site of a 



cloister which had been founded in 1484, 
but- had been much injured in serving 
alternately as a fortress against the 
Turks and a plaything for violent earth- 
quakes. The monastery of to-day serves 
as a home of the vladika and the archi- 
mandrite, the chief of the orthodox reli- 
gion professed according to the Greek 
rite throughout Montenegro, and also as 
a prison for women who need correction. 
Prince Nicholas now and then gives a 
banquet to his warriors in his modest 
palace, and the spectacle on such occa- 
sions is unique in the extreme. From 
all points in the little principality come 
tall, gaunt men, clad in their gala cos- 
tumes, and wearing cuirasses of silver 
or steel. Gathered round the banquet 
table, they are decorous and diffident, 
saying but little until the prince leads 
them on to tell of their exploits. Late 
at night, after the princely festivities are 
over, the warriors gather in a circle 
around a little fire in a cottage, and 
sing songs filled with memories of com- 
bat. 

The prince is cool, hardy, and resolute 
in the midst of danger. He narrowly 
escaped assassination at the hands of 
a Turk some years ago, but he wanders 
about the country unprotected whenever 
he pleases, with no fear of a second 
attempt. His conduct during the disas- 
trous day when Omar Pacha in 1802 suc- 
ceeded iii gaining a temporary victory 
over the Montenegrins was in the high- 
est degree manly and wise. His father, 
Mirko, who was a terrible scourge to the 
Turks, and who was aiding in the com- 
plete military development of the princi- 
pality, was ordered by a treaty signed 
at Scutari between Omar Pacha and the 
Montenegrins, at the conclusion of the 
campaign of 1862, to be expelled from 
the country, lint although the Turks 
were in a condition to force a treaty upon 



700 EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 

the Montenegrins, they could not sum- three hours' march from Tsettinj6, not 

niou force enough to make them accept far from the Albanian frontier of Mon- 

its odious conditions, and Mirko the tenegro. Near it is a manufactory of 

Valiant remained among his native arms, recently established by the govern- 

mountains. Prince Nicholas rises often ment. The convent at Rieka was once 

at dawn, and wanders, attended by a very famous ; in the sixteenth century 

small suite, through the streets of Tset- the vladikas, who were driven out of 

tinjr, hearing the complaints of the poor other fortress-convents by the Turks, 

and the oppressed and the reports of took refuge there, and made it one of 

his warriors. He enters the senate the centres of the Slavic learning of 

house and listens to the noisy discus- the time. Rieka has nothing to recoin- 

sions of the sixteen conscript fathers, — mend it to attention nowadays save an 

discussions always accompanied by the occasional fair, to which the warriors 

clang of arms. Each senator has his and maidens come to buy the Albanian 

heavy weapons laid upon the desk before jewelry and Turkish pistols and yata- 

him, but keeps his pistols and daggers ghans. 

in his girdle. Each one smokes a long The monastery of Ostrog is one of the 

pipe furiously during the session, and curiosities of Montenegro, and is an 

when speaking emphasizes his many edifice never mentioned in the Black 

gestures with it. The prince sometimes Mountain without reverence. High up 

makes an address there, and is not sur- among the rocks stand two plain stone 

prised now and then to find himself flatly structures, which form a species of double 

contradicted. He visits the prisons, the monastery. In one of them the valiant 

courts, often acts as counsel for a crim- father of the present prince successfully 

inal who has no defender, gives advice held at bay a small Turkish army with 

to the ignorant, and even settles fainih fourteen men in L857. The convent is a 

disputes. If he gets hungry while prom- place of pilgrimage for all the orthodox 

cnading. he has only to return to the populations of Montenegro, Bosnia, Al- 

senate house, where the fathers daily bania, Herzegovina, and Dalmatia ; and 

roast a sheep whole, and partake of the the peasants sometimes endure incredi- 

smoking flesh while still continuing to ble hardships in braving the storms 

discuss affairs of state. in those terrible mountain ways that 

In winter the snows rest heavily upon they may say their prayers at the doors 

the huge crags, and in the deep valleys of Ostrog. All the rocks round about 

the flocks sometimes suffer for food, are memorials of bloody battles between 

But the snows do not hinder the moiin- Turks and Christians. Ostrog is the 

taineers from making long journeys in seat of one of the excellent schools 

pursuit of game or the Turkish soldier: which the Montenegrin government, with 

indeed, the women are often alone tin/ the aid of Russia and Servia, founded 

whole winter-time. When the husbands several years ago. In the savage solitude 

depart they do not tell their wives where of Ostrog lives the venerable Ljubitch, 

thev arc going, and no Montenegrin the archimandrite, who teaches theology, 

woman would be brave enough to ask grammar, history, and science to the 

her lord and master any indiscreet ques- pupils sent him, and waits patiently for 

tions. them to manifest their "vocation." Some 

Rieka is a pretty little town, about of them don the priestly gown, but none 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



701 



ever put aside the weapons which 
they have worn from earliest child- 
hood. Climbing to the summit of Mt. 
Lovchen, near Tsettinje, where the 
tomb of Peter II., the distinguished 
vladika, stands out, a landmark seen 
from miles around, against the clear blue 
of the sky, and looking down over the 
rugged, rocky country stretching away 
to the sea, the traveller reflects with 
astonishment upon the energy and will 
which have built up a state, and pro- 
tected it for more than four centuries 
against a formidable enemy in such sur- 
roundings. Montenegro yearly becomes 
more and more important to the Euro- 
pean family ; her population, despite the 



ravages of war, constantly increases, 
and her political importance is to-day of 
a very high rank, since a declaration of 
Prince Nicholas in the stony streets of 
Tsettinje' may cause the downfall of half- 
a-dozen thrones. It is probable that tin' 
little country will be permitted to keep 
her autonomy inviolate, whatever may 
be the other results of the coming events 
in which her warriors will take a promi- 
nent part. .She is universally respected 
because of her own strength and inde- 
pendence, — doubly at this moment be- 
cause of the mysterious support which 
she receives from that Russia which has 
been her occasional ally since the (lays 
of Peter the Great. 



7U2 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER EIGHTY. 

Danubian Days. — Hungarians and Slays. — A Turkish Fortress. — Tho Footprints of Trajan. — Orso\a 
the Fair. — Gypsies. — Animals in the East. — Lower Hungary and its Peculiar Features.- 
Wayside Inns Along the Dauube. — The Harvesters Coming Home at Eventide. — Gypsies at 
Drenkova. — Through the Iron Gates. 

ADA-KALE is a Turkish fortress Mussulman in the place could have been 
which seems to spring directly captured in twenty minutes. I passed 
from the bosom of the Danube, at a 1 > v there one morning on the road from 
point where three curious and quarrel- Orsova, on the frontier of Hungary, to 
some races come into contact, and where Bucharest, and was somewhat amused to 
the Ottoman thought it necessary to see :m elderly Turk seated in a small 
have a foothold even in times of pro- boat near the Roumanian bank fishing. 
found peace. To the traveller from Behind him were two soldiers, who 
Western Europe no spectacle on the way served as oarsmen, and rowed him gently 
to Constantinople was so impressive, he- from point to point when he gave the 
fore the war of 1*77. as this ancient and signal. Scarcely six hundred feet from 
picturesque fortification, suddenly af- him stood a Wallaehian sentry, watch- 
fronting the vision witlt its odd walls, ing his movements in lazy, indifferent 
its minarets, its red-capped sentries, and fashion. Ami this was at the moment 
tiie yellow sinister faces peering from when the Turks were bombarding Kalafat 
balconies suspended above the current, in Roumania from Widdin on the Bulga- 
It was the first glimpse of the Orient rian side of tin' Danube! Such a spec- 
which one obtained; it appropriately tacle could be witnessed nowhere save 
introduced one to a domain which is gov- in this hind, " where it is always after- 
erned by sword and gun; and it was a noon," where people at times seem to 
pretty spot of color in the midst of the suspend respiration because they are too 
severe and rather solemn scenery of the idle to breathe, and where even a doe 
Danubian stream. Ada-Kale is to be will protest if you ask him to move 
razed to the water's edge, — so at least quickly out <>( your path. The old Turk 
the treaty between Russia and Turkey doubtless fished in silence and calm until 
has ordained. — and the Servian moun- the end of the war. for I never heard of 
taineers will no longer see the crescent the removal of either himself or his corn- 
flag flying within rifle-shot of the crags panions. 

from which, by their heroic devotion in The journeys by river and by rail from 

unequal battle, they long ago banished Lower Roumania to the romantic and 

it. broken country surrounding Orsova tire 

The Turks occupying this fortress extremely interesting. The Danube 

during the recent war evidently relied stretches of shimmering water among the 

upon fate for their protection, for the reedy lowlands — where the only sign of 

walls of Ada-Kale are within a stone's life is a quainl craft painted in gaudy 

throw of the Roumanian shore, and every colors becalmed in some nook, or a 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



r<)3 



guard-house built on piles driven into the 
mud — are perhaps a trifle monotonous, 
but one has only to turn from them to 
the people who come on hoard the 
steamer to have a rich fund of enjoy- 
ment. Nowhere are types so abundant 
and various as on the routes of travel 
between Bucharest and 
Rustchuk, or Pesth and 
Belgrade. Every com- 
plexion, an extraordinary 
piquancy and variety of 
costume, and a bewilder- 
ing array of languages 
and dialects are set before 
the careful observer. As 
for myself, I found a 
special enchantment in the 
scenery of the Danube, — 
iu the lonely inlets, the 
wildernesses of young 
shoots in the marshes, the 
flights of aquatic birds as 
the sound of the steamer 
was heard, the long 
tongues of laud on which 
the water-buffaloes lay 
huddled iu stupid con- 
tent, the tiny hummocks, 
where villages of wattled 
hovels were assembled. 
The Bulgarian shore 
stands out in bold relief. 
Sistova, from the river, is 
positively beautiful, hut 
the now historical 
Simnitza seems only a mud-flat. At 
night the boats touch upon the Rouma- 
nian side for fuel. — the Turks have 
always been too lazy and vicious to de- 
velop the splendid mineral resources of 
Bulgaria, — and the stout peasants and 
their wives trundle thousands of barrows 
of coal along the swinging planks. Here 
is raw life, lusty, full of rude beauty, 
but utterly incult. The men and women 



appear to be merely animals gifted with 
speech. The women wear almost no 
clothing; their matted hair drops about 
their shapely shoulders as they toil 
at their burden, singing meanwhile some 
merry chorus. Little tenderness is be- 
stowed on these creatures, and it was uot 









o-rfm- 



/■ ■.„■'./■ 




W V.'i'AV'.;' -,/>« 




THE RUSSIANS CROSSING 
THE DANUBE IN FRONT 
OF SISTOVA. 



without a slight twinge of 
the nerves that I saw the 
huge, burly master of the 
boat's crew now and then bestow a. ring- 
ing slap with his open hand upon the 
neck or cheek of one of the poor women 
who stumbled with her load, or who 
halted for a moment to indulge in abuse 
of a comrade. As the boat moved away, 
these people, dancing about the heaps of 
coal in the torchlight, looked not unlike 
demons disporting in some gruesome 
nook of enchanted land. When they 



704 



El ROPE 7.V STORM AND 



ALM. 



were gypsies they did not need the aid of 
the torches : they wen' sufficiently de- 
moniacal without artificial aid. 

Kalafat and Turnu-Severinu are small 
towns which would never have been 
much heard of had they not been in the 
region visited by the war. Turnu-Sev- 
erinu is noted, however, as the point, 
where Neverinus once built a mighty 
tower ; and not far from the little hamlet 
may still be seen the ruins of Trajan's 
immemorial bridge. When' the Danube is 
twelve hundred yards wide and nearly 
twenty feet deep Apollodorus of Damas- 
cus did not hesitate, at Trajan's com- 
mand, to undertake the construction of 
a bridge with twenty stone and wooden 
arches. He builded well, for one or two 
of the stone piers still remain perfect, 
alter a lapse of sixteen centuries, and 
eleven of them, more or less ruined, are 
yet visible at low water. Apollodorus 
was a man of genius, as his oilier work, 
the Trajan Column, proudly standing in 
Rome, amply testifies. No doubt he 
was richly rewarded by Trajan for con- 
structing a work which, Hanked as it 
was by noble fortifications, bound the 
newly captured Dacian colony to the 
Roman empire. What mighty men were 
these Romans, who carved their way 
along tin 1 Danube banks, hewing roads 
and levelling mountains at the same 
time that they engaged the savages of 
the locality in daily battle! There 
were indeed giants in those days. 

When Ada-Kali - ' is pissed, and pretty 
Orsova, lying in slumbrous quiet at the 
font of noble mountains, is reached, the 
last trace of Turkish domination is left 
behind. In future years, if the treaty 
of San StefailO holds, there will be little 
evidence of Ottoman lack of civilization 
anywhere on the Danube, for the forts 
of the Turks will gradually disappear, 
and the Mussulman cannot for an in- 



stant hold his own among Christians 
where he has no military advantage. 
But at Orsova, although the red fez and 
voluminous trousers are rarely seen, the 
influence of Turkey is keenly felt. It is 
in these remote regions of Hungary that 
the real rage against Russia and the 
burning enthusiasm and sympathy for 
the Turks were most openly expressed. 
Every cottage in the neighborhood is 
filled with crude pictures representing 
events of the Hungarian revolution ; and 
the peasants, as they look upon those re- 
minders of perturbed times, reflect that 
the Russians were instrumental in pre- 
venting the accomplishment of their 
dearest wishes. Here the Hungarian is 
eminently patriotic; he endeavors as 
much as possible to forget that lie and 
his are bound to the cm] ire of Austria, 
and he speaks of the German and the 
Slav, who are his fellow-subjects, with 
a sneer The people whom one encoun- 
ters in that corner of Hungary profess 
a dense ignorance of the German lan- 
guage, lint if pressed can speak it glibly 
enough. 1 won an angry frown and an 
unpleasant remark from an innkeeper 
because 1 did not know that Austrian 
postage-stamps are not good in Hungary. 
Such melancholy ignorance of the sim- 
plest details of existence seemed to my 
host meet subject for reproach. 

Orsova became an important point as 
soon as the Turks and Russians were at 
war. The peasants of the Banat stared 
as they saw long lines of travellers leav- 
ing the steamers which had come from 
Pesth and Bazias, and invading the 
two small inns, usually more than 
half empty. Englishmen, Russians, 
Austrian officers sent down to keep care- 
ful watch upon the land, French and 
Prussian, Swiss and Belgian military 
attachis and couriers, journalists, artists, 
amateur army-followers, crowded the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



TO. - ) 



two long streets and exhausted the mar- 
ket. Next came a hungry and thirsty 
mob of refugees from Widdin, — Jews, 
Greeks, and gypsies, — and these prom- 
enaded their variegated misery on the 
river banks from sunrise until sunset. 
Then out from Roumanian land poured 
thousands of wretched peasants, bare- 
footed, bare-headed, dying of starvation, 
fleeing from Turkish invasion, which 
happily never assumed large propor- 
tions. These poor people slept on the 
ground, content with the shelter of house 
walls ; they subsisted on unripe fruits, 
and that unfailing fund of mild tobacco 
which every male being in all those 
countries invariably manages to secure. 
Walking abroad ill Orsova was no easy 
task, for oue was constantly compelled 
to step over these poor fugitives, who 
packed themselves into the sand at noon- 
day, and managed for a few hours be- 
fore the cool evening breezes came to 
forget their miseries. The vast fleet of 
river steamers belonging to the Austrian 
company was laid up at Orsova, and 
dozens of captains, conversing in the 
liquid Slav, or the graceful Italian, or 
guttural German, were forever seated 
about the doors of the little cafis, smok- 
ing long cigars and quaffing beakers of 
the potent white wine produced in Aus- 
trian vineyards. 

Opposite Orsova lie the Servian moun- 
tains, bold, majestic, inspiring. Their 
noble forests and the deep ravines be- 
tween them are exquisite in color when 
the sun flashes along their sides A few- 
miles below the point where the Hun- 
garian and Roumanian territories meet 
the mountainous region declines into 
foot-hills, and then to an uninteresting 
plain. The Orsovan dell is the culminat- 
ing point of all the beauty and grandeur 
of the Danubian hills. From oue emi- 
nence richly laden with vineyards I 



looked out, on a fresh April morning, 
across a delicious valley filled with pretty 
farms and wdiite cottages, and orna- 
mented by long rows of shapely poplars. 
Turning to the right I saw Servia's bar- 
riers, shutting in from the Cold winds 
the fat lands of the interior, vast hill- 
sides dotted from point to point with 
peaceful villages, in the midst of which 
white churches with slender spires arose, 
and to the left the irregular line of the 
Roumanian [teaks stood up, jagged and 
broken, against the horizon. Out from 
Orsova runs a, rude highway into the 
rocky and savage back-country. The 
celebrated baths of Mehadia, the " hot 
springs" of the Austro-Hungarian em- 
pire, are yearly frequented by three or 
four thousand sufferers, who come from 
the European capitals to Temesvar, and 
are thence trundled in diligences to the 
water-cure. But the railway is pene- 
trating even this far-off land, where 
once brigands delighted to wander, and 
Temesvar and Bucharest are now bound 
together by a daily "through-service" 
as regular as that between Pesth and 
Vienna. 

I sat one morning on the balcony of 
the diminutive inn known as "The 
Hungarian Crown," watching the sun- 
beams on tin 1 broad current of the 
Danube and listening to tin' ripple, the 
plash, and the gurgleof the swollen stream 
as it lushed impetuously against the 
banks. A group of Servians, in canoes 
light and swift as those of Indians, had 
made their way across the river and were 
struggling vigorously to prevent the cur- 
rent from carrying them below a favor- 
able landing-place. These tall, slender 
men, with bronzed faces and gleaming 
eyes, with their round skull-caps, their 
gaudy jackets, and ornamental gaiters, 
bore no small resemblance ai a distance to 
certain of our North American red-skins. 



i (III EUROTE IN STORM AST) CALM. 

Each man had a long knife in his belt, tions. Then tremendous echoes awoke 

and from experience I can say that a among the lulls. Peal after peal echoed 

Servian knife is in itself a complete tool- and reechoed until it seemed as if the 

chest.. With its one tough and keen cliffs must crack anil crumble. Sheets 

blade one may skin a sheep, file a saw. of rain were blown by the mischievous 
split wood, mend a wagon, defend one's winds, now full upon the unhappy fugi- 
self vigorously, if need he, make a but- lives, or now descended with seemingly 
ton-hole, and eat one's breakfast. No crushing force on the Servians in their 
Servian wh<> adheres to the ancient dancing cauoes. Then came vivid light- 
costume would consider himself dressed nine-, brilliant and instant glances of 
unless the crooked knife hung from hi- electricity, disclosiug the forests and 
girdle. Although the country side along hills for a moment, then seeming by 
the Danube is rough, ami travellers are their quick departure to render the ob- 
said to need protection among the Servian senrity more painful than before. The 
hills, 1 could not discover that the in- fiery darts were hurled by dozens upon 
habitants wore other weapons than these the devoted trees, and the tall and grace- 
useful articles of cutlery. Yet they are I'ul stems were bent like reeds before 
daring smugglers, and sometimes openly the rushing of the blast. Cold swept 
defy the Hungarian authorities when through the vale, and shadows seemed 
discovered. " Ah !" said Master Josef , to follow it. Such contrast with the la- 
the head servantof the Hungarian crown, minous, lovely, semi-tropical afternoon, 
■• many a good fight have I seen in mid- in the dreamy restfulness of which man 
stream, the boats grappled together, and beast seemed settling into lethargy, 

knives flashing, and our fellows draw- was crushing. It pained and disturbed 

ing their pistols. All that, I for a the spirit. Master Josef, who never lost 

few llasks of Negotil), which is a musty, an occasion to (loss himself, and to do 

red, thick wine, that Heaven would for- a few turns on a little rosary of amber 

bid me to recommend to your honorable beads, came and went in a kind of a 

self and companions so lone- as I put in dazed mood while the storm was at its 

the cellar the pearl dew of yonder vine- height. Just as a blow was struck 

yards," pointing to the vines of Or- among the hills which seemed to make 

sova. the earth quiver to its centre, the varlet 

While the Servians were anxiously en- approached, and modestly inquired if 

deavoring to land, and seemed to be in the "honorable society" — myself ami 

imminent danger of upsetting, the roll of chance companions — would visit that, 

thunder was heard and a few drops of very afternoon the famous chapel in 

rain tell with heavy plash. Master Josef which the crown of Hungary lies buried, 

forthwith began making shutters fast [ glanced curiously at him, thinking that 

and tying the curtains, for " now we possibly the thunder had addled his 

shall have a wind," quoth he. And it brain. " Oh, the honorable society may 

came. As by magic the Servian shore walk in sunshine all the way to the 

was blotted out. ami In fore me I could chapel at five o'clock!" he said, with 

see little save the river, which seemed an encouraging ",rin. ••These Danube 

transformed into a roaring and foaming storms come and go as quickly as a Tsi- 

ocean. The refugees, the gypsies, the gane f rom a hen-roost. See! the thun- 

Jews, the Greeks scampered in all direc- der has stopped its howling, and there is 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



707 



not a wink of lightning. Even the rain- 
drops are so few that one may almost 
walk between them." 

I returned to the balcony from which 
the storm had driven me, and was grati- 
fied by the sight of the mountain side 
studded with pearls, which a faint glow 
in the sky was gently touching. The 
Danube roared and foamed with mali- 
cious glee as the poor Servians were 
still whirled about on the water. But 
presently through the deep gorges, and 
along the sombre stream, and over the 
vineyards, the rocks, and the roofs of 
humble cottages stole a warm breeze, 
followed by dazzling sunlight, which 
returned in mad haste to atone for the 
displeasure of the wind and lain. In 
a lew moments the refugees were again 
afield, spreading their drenched gar- 
ments on the wooden railings and 
stalking about in a condition narrowly 
approaching nakedness. A gypsy lour 
feet high, clad in a linen shirt, and trou- 
sers so wide as to resemble petticoats, 
strolled thoughtlessly on the bank, sing- 
ing a plaintive melody, and now ami 
then turning his brown face skyward 
as if to salute the sun. The child of 
mysterious ancestry, this wanderer from 
the East, this robber of roosts, ami cun- 
ning worker in metals, possessed neither 
hat nor shoes ; his naked breast and his 
unprotected arms must suffer cold at 
night; yet he seemed wonderfully happy. 
The Jews and Greeks gave him scornful 
glances, which he returned with quizzi- 
cal, provoking smiles. At last he threw 
himself down on a plank, from which 
the generous sun was rapidly drying the 
lain, and, coiling up as a dog might 
have done, he was soon asleep. 

With a marine glass I could see dis- 
tinctly every movement on the Servian 
shore. Close to the water's edge nestled 
a small village of neat white cottages. 



Around a little wharf hovered fifty or 
sixty stout farmers, mounted on sturdy 
ponies, watching the arrival of the " Mer- 
eur," the Servian steamer from Belgrade 
and the Sava river. The " Mercur" came 
pulling valiantly forward, as uncon- 
cerned as if no whirlwind had swept 
across her path, although she must have 
been in the narrow and dangerous canon 
of the - l Iron < lates " when the blast and 
the shower were most furious. On the 
roads leading down the mountain sides 
I saw long processions of squealing and 
grunting swine, black, white, ami gray, 
all active and self-willed, lighting each 
other for the light of way. Before 
each procession marched a swineherd 
playing on a rustic pipe, the sounds 
from which primitive instrument seemed 
to exercise C'ireean enchantment upon 
the rude flocks. It was inexpressibly 
comical to watch the masses of swine 
after they had been enclosed in the 
"folds," — huge tracts fenced in. and 
provided with shelters at the corners. 
Each herd knew its master, and as he 
passed to and fro would salute him with 
a delighted squeal, which died away into 
a series of disappointed anil cynical 
groans as soon as the porkers had dis- 
covered that no evening repast was to 
be offered them. Good fare do these 
Servian swine find in the abundant pro- 
vision of acorns in the vast forests. The 
men who spend their lives in restraining 
the vagabond instincts of these vulgar 
animals may perhaps be thought a col- 
lection of brutal hinds ; bur, on the 
contrary they are fellows of shrewd 
common sense and much dignity of feel- 
ing. Kara-George, the terror of the 
Turk at the beginning of the century, 
the majestic character who won the ad- 
miration of Europe, whose genius as a 
soldier was praised by Napoleon the 
Great, and who freed his countrymen 



70S EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

from bondage, — Kara-George was a of Servian wishes. Thus the two coun- 

swineherd in the woods of the Schau- tries are theoretically at peace and prac- 

madia until the wind of the spirit fanned tically at war. While the conflict of 

his brow and called liim from his simple 1877 was in progress collisions between 

toil to immortalize his homely name. Servian and Hungarian were of almost 

Master Josef and his fellows in < )rsova daily occurrence, 

did not hate the Servians with the bitter- The Hungarian's intolerance of the 

ness manifested towards the Roumani- Slav does not proceed from unworthy 

ans, \e( they considered them as aliens, jealousy, bul rather from an exaggerated 

and as dangerous conspirators against idea of the importance of his own coun- 

the public weal. " Who knows at what try and of the evils which might befall 

moment they may go over to the litis- it if the old Serb stock began to renew its 

sians?" was the constant cry. And in ancient glory. In corners of Hungary, 

process of time they went ; but although such as Orsova, the peasant imagines 

Master Josef had professed the utmost that his native hind is the main world, 

willingness to take up arms on such an and that the rest of Europe is an uunec- 

occasion, it does not appear thai he did essary and troublesome fringe around 

it, doubtless preferring, on reflection, the edges of it. There is a story of a 

the quiet of his inn and. his flask of white gentleman in l'esth who went to a deal r 
wine in the court-yard rather than an in maps and inquired for a globus of 
exclusion among the trans-Dauubian Hungary, showing that he imagined it to 
hills and the chances of an untoward be the whole round earth. 
fate at the point of a Servian knife. It So fair were the land and the stream 
is not astonishing that the two peoples after the storm that I lingered until sun- 
do not understand each other, although set. gazing out over river and on Servian 
only a strip of water separates their hills, and did not accept Josef's iuvita- 
frontieis for a long stretch, for the tion to visit the chapel of the Hungarian 
difference in language and in its written crown that evening. But next morn- 
form is a most effectual barrier to inter- ing before the sun was high I wandered 
course. The Servians learn something alone in the direction of the Roumanian 
of the Hungarians' dialects, since they frontier, and by accident came upon the 
come to till the rich lands of the Banat chapel. It is a modest structure, in a 
in the summer season, Bulgarians and nook surrounded by tall poplars, and 
Servians by thousands find employment within is a simple chapel, with Latin iu- 
in Hungary in summer and return home seriptions. Here the historic crown re- 
when autumn sets in. But the dreams poses, now that there is no longer any 
and ambitions of the two peoples have use for it at Presburg, the ancient capital, 
nothing in common. Servia looks long- Here it was brought by pious hands after 
inglv to Slavic unification, and is anxious the troubles between Austria and Hun- 
to secure for herself a predominance in gary were settled. During the revolu- 
the new nation to be moulded out of the tion (he sacred bauble was hidden by 
old scattered elements. Hungary be- the command of noblemen to whom it 
lieves that the consolidation of the Slavs had been confided, and the servitors 

would place her in a dangerous and who concealed it at the behest of their 

humiliating position, and conspires day masters were slain, lest in an indiscreet 

and night to compass exactly the reverse moment they might betray the secret. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



709 



For thousands of enthusiasts this tiny 
chapel is ili<> holiest of shrines, and 
shouM trouble come anew upon Hungary 
in the presenl perturbed times the crown 
would perhaps journey once more. 

It seemed pitiful that the railway 
should ever invade this out-of-the-way 
corner of Europe. I>ut it was already 
crawling through the mountains; hun- 
dreds of Italian laborers were putting 
down the shining rails in woods and glens 
where no sounds save the song of birds or 
the carol of the infrequent passer-by had 
theretofore been heard. For the present, 
however, the old-fashioned, comfortless 
diligence keeps the roads; the herib- 
boned postilion winds his merry horn, 
and as the afternoon sun is getting low 
the dusty, antique vehicle rattles up t<> 
the court of the inn, the guard gets 
down, dusts the leather casing of the 
gun which nowadays he is never com 
pelled to use ; then he touches his square 
hat. ornamented with a feather, to the 
maids and men of the hostelry. When 
the mails ire claimed, the horses re- 
freshed, and the stage is covered with its 
leathern hood, postilion and guard sit 
down together in a cool corner under the 
gallery in the court-yard and crack various 
small flasks of wine. They smoke their 
porcelain pipes, imported from Vienna, 
with the air of men of the world who 
have travelled ami who could tell you a 
thing or two if they liked. They are 
never tired of talking of Mehadia, which 
is one of their principal stations. The 
sad-faced nobleman, followed by the 
decorous old man-servant in fantastic 
Magyar livery, who arrived in the dili- 
gence, has been to the baths. The mus- 
ter is vainly seeking cure, comes every 
year, and always supplies postilion and 
guard with the money to buy flasks of 
wine. This the postilion tells me and 
my fellows, and suggests that the " hon- 



orable society " should follow the worthy 
nobleman's example. No sooner is it 
done than postilion and guard kiss our 
hands; which is likewise an evidence 
that they have travelled, are well nut 
with every stranger and all customs, and 
know more than they say. 

The Romans had extensive establish- 
ments at Mehadia, which they called 
the " Baths of Hercules," and it is in 
memory of this that a statue of the good 
giant stands in the square of the little 
town. Scattered through thehills, many 
inscriptions to Hercules, to Mercury, 
and to Venus have been found during 
the ages. The villages on the road 
thither are few and far between, and are 
inhabited by peasants decidedly Dacian 
in type. It is estimated that, a million 
and a half of Roumanians are settled in 
Hungary, and in this section they are 
exceedingly numerous. Men and women 
wear showy costumes, quite barbaric and 
uncomfortable. The women seem deter- 
mined to wear as few garments as pos- 
sible and to compensate for lack of 
number by brightness of coloring. In 
many a pretty face traces of gypsj 
blood may be seen. This vagabond taint 
gives an inexpressible charm to a face 
for which the Hungarian strain has al- 
ready done much. The coal-black hair 
and wild, mutinous eyes set off to per- 
fection the pale face and exquisitely 
thin lips, the delicate nostrils ami beau- 
tifully moulded chin. Angel or devil? 
queries the beholder. Sometimes he is 
constrained to think that the possessor 
of such a face has the mingled souls of 
saint and siren. The light undertone of 
melancholy which pervades gypsy beauty, 
gypsy music, gypsy manners, has an 
extremely remarkable fascination for all 
who perceive it. Even when it is almost. 
buried beneath ignorance and animal 
craft it is still to be found in the gyps\ 



710 EUROPE IN STOIiM AND CALM. 

nature after diligent search. This strange lawn and a cool breeze fanned the fore- 
race seems overshadowed by the sorrow heads of the listeners. When the light 
of some haunting memory. Each indi- was all gone, these men. as if inspired 
vidual belonging to the Tsiganes whom by the darkness, sometimes improvised 
I saw impressed ine as a fugitive from most angelic melody. There was never 
Fate. To look back was impossible ; of any loud or boisti rous note, never any 
the present, be was careless ; the future direct appeal to the attention. 1 in- 
tempted him on. In their ninsic one variably forgot the singers ami players, 
now and then hears bints of a desire to and the music seemed a part of the liar- 
return to some far-off and half-forgotten mony of Nature. While the pleasant 
land. But this is rare. notes echoed in the twilight troops of 
There is a large number of "civil- jaunty young Hungarian soldiers, dressed 
ized gypsies," so called, in the neigh- in red hose, dark-green doublets, ami 
borhood of Orsova. 1 never saw one of small caps, sometimes adorned with 
them without a profound compassion tor feathers, sauntered up and down the 
him. so utterly unhappy did he look in principal street ; the refugees huddled 
ordinary attire. The musicians who in corners and listened with delight ; the 
came nightly to play on the lawn in Austrian officials lumbered by, pouring 
front of the Hungarian Crown inn be- clouds of smoke from their long, strong, 
longed to these civilized Tsiganes. They and inevitable cigars; and the docs for- 
bad lost all the freedom of gesture, the got their perennial quarrel for a few 
proud, half-savage stateliness of those instants at a, time. 
who remained nomadic and untrammelled The docs of Orsova and of all the 
by local law and custom. The old in- neighboring country have many of the 
stinct was in their music, and sometimes characteristics of their fellow-creatures 
there drifted into it the same mixture in Turkey. Orsova is divided into 
of saint ami devil which I had seen in " beats," which are thoroughly and care- 

tbe '•composite" faces. fully patrolled night and day by bands 
As soon as supper was set forth, of dogs, who recognize the limits of their 
piping hot and Hanked by flagons of domain and severely resent intrusion, 
beer ami wine, on the lawn, and the In front of the Hungarian Crown a large 
guests bad assembled to partake of the doc. aided bv a small yellow cur and a 
good cheer, while yet the after-glow lin- black spaniel, mainly made up of cars 
gered alone the Danube, these dusky and tail, maintained order. The after- 
musicians appeared and installed them- noon quiet was generally disturbed about 
selves iii a corner. The old stream's four o'clock by the advent of a. strange 
murmur could not drown tli" piercing canine, who, with that expression of ex- 
and pathetic notes of the violin, the ecu- treuie innocence which always character- 
tie wail of the guzla, or the soft thrum- i/cs the animal that knows he is doing 
mine of the rude tambourine. Little wrong, would venture on to tic forbid- 
poetry as a spectacled and frosty Alls- den ground. A low crowd in chorus 
trian officer might have in his soul, that from the three guardians was tin- inev- 
little must have been awakened by the ifable preliminary warning. The new- 
songs and the orchestral performances comer usually seemed much surprised at 
of the Tsiganes as the sun sank low. this, and gave an astonished glance, 
The dusk began to creep athwart the then wagging his tail merrily, as much 



EUROPE I.V STORM AND CALM. 



711 



as to say, "Nonsense! I must have 
been mistaken," lie approached anew. 
One of the trio of guardians there- 
upon sallied forth to meet him. fol- 
lowed by the others a little distance 
behind. If the strange dog showed his 
teeth, assumed a defiant attitude, and 
seemed inclined to make his waythrough 
any number of enemies, the trio held a 
consultation, which I am hound to say 
almost invariably resulted in a fight. 
The intruder would either fly yelping, 
or would work his way across the inter- 
dieted territory by means of a series of 
encounters, accompanied by the most 
terrific barking, snapping, and shriek- 
ing, and by a very considerable effusion 
of blood. The person who should inter- 
fere to prevent a dog-light in Orsova 
would be regarded as a lunatic. Some- 
times a large white dog. accompanied by 
two shaggy animals resembling wolves 
so closely that it was almost impossible 
to believe them guardians of flocks of 
sheep, passed by the Hungarian Crown 
unchallenged ; but these were probably 
tried warriors, whose valor was so well 
known that they were no longer ques- 
tioned anywhere. 

The gypsies have in their wagons or 
following in their train small black dogs. 
of temper unparalleled for ugliness. It 
is impossible to approach a Tsigane tent 
or wagon without encountering a swarm 
of these diminutive creatures, whose 
rage is not only amusing, bul sometimes 
rather appalling, to contemplate. Driv- 
ing rapidly by a camp one morning in a 
fanner's cart drawn by two stout horses 
adorned with jingling bells. I was fol- 
lowed by a pack of these dark-skinned 
animals. The bells awoke such rage 
within them that they seemed insane 
under its influence. As they leaped and 
snapped around me I felt like some 
traveller in a Russian forest pursued bv 



hungry wolves. A dog scarcely six 
inches high and but twice as long would 
spring from the ground as if a pound of 
dynamite had exploded beneath him, 
and would make a desperate effort to 
throw himself into the wagon. Another, 
howling in impotent anger, would jump 
full at a horse's throat, would roll be- 
neath the feet of the horse, but in some 
miraculous fashion would escape unhurt, 
and would scramble upon a bank to try 
again. It was a real relief when the 
discouraged pack fell away. Had I shot 
one of the animals, the gypsies would 
have found a way to avenge the death of 
their enterprising though somewhat too 
zealous camp-follower. Animals every- 
where on these border lines of the Orient 
are treated with much more tenderness 
than men and women are. The grandee 
who would scowl furiously in this wild 
region of the Banal if the peasants did 
not stand by the roadside and doff their 
hats in token of respect and submission 
would not kick a dog out of his way. and 
would manifest the utmost tenderness 
for his horses. 

The railway from Verciorova, on the 
frontier, runs through the large towns 
Pitesti and Craiova on its way to Bu- 
charest. It is a marvellous railroad : it 
climbs hills, descends into deep gnllies. 
and has as little of the air line about it 
as a grea) river has, for the contractors 
built it on the principle of " keeping 
near the surface." and they much pre- 
ferred climbing ten high mountains to 
cutting one tunnel. Craiova takes its 
name, according to a somewhat misty 
legend, from John Assan, who was one 
of the Romano-Bulgarian kings, Craiova 
being a corruption of ( 'rai Iran { " King 
John"). This John was the same who 
drank his wine from a cup made out of 
the skull of the unlucky emperor Bald- 
win I. The old laws of Craiova gave 



712 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

their title to the Roumanian silver pieces rapidly emptying. The host was a mas- 

now known as bafii. Slatina, farther sive man, with bulbous nose and sleepy 

down the line, on the river AItu (the Aluta ryes; he responded to all questions with 

of the ancients) , is a pretty town, where a stare, and the statement that he did 

a proud and brave community love to not knew, and seemed anxious to leave 

recite l<> the stranger the valorous deeds everything in doubt until the latest. 

of their ancestors. It is the centre from moment possible. His daughter, who 

which have spread out most of the was brighter and less dubious in her 

modern revolutionary movements in Rou- responses than her father, was a slight 

mania. " Little Wallachia," in which girl, with lustrous black eves, wistful 

Slatina stands, is rich in well-tilled lips, a perfect form, and black hair cov- 

liehls and uplands covered with fat cat- ered with a linen cloth that the dust, 

tie. It is as fertile as Kansas, and its might not come near its glossy threads, 

people seemed to ine more agreeable When she made her appearance, tlash- 

and energetic than those in and around ing out of a huge dark room, which was 

Bucharest. stone paved, and arched overhead, and 

lie who clings to the steamers plying in which peasants sat drinking sour beer, 

up ami down the Danube sees much she seemed like a ray of sunshine in the 

romantic scenery and many (anions middle of night. But there was more 

types, but he loses all the real charm of dignity about her than is to be found in 

travel in these regions. The future most sunbeams; she was modest and 

tourist, on his way to or from Bulgaria civil in answer, but understood no com- 

and the battle-fields of the " new cru- pliments. There was something of the 

sade," will lie wise if he journeys leis- princess-reduced-in-cireumstauces in her 

tirely by farm-wagon — he will not be demeanor. A royal supper could she 

likely to find a carriagi — along the serve, and the linen which she spread on 

Hungarian bank of the stream. 1 made the small wooden table in the back court- 

thc journey in April, when in that gentle yard studied of lavender. 1 took my 

southward climate the wayside was al- dinners after tin' long days' rides, in 

reaily radiant with tlowers and the mil- inns which commanded delicious views 

low sunshine was unbroken by cloud Of of the Danube, — points where willows 

rain. There were discomfort and dust, overhung the rushing stream, or where 

but there was a rare pleasure in the crags towered above it. or where it, 

arrival at a quaint inn whose exterior flowed in smooth, vet resistless, might 

front, boldly asserting itself in the through plains in which hundreds of 
bolder row of house-fronts in a long peasants were toiling, their red-aud- 
village street, was uninviting enough, white costumes contrasting sharply with 
but the interior of which was charming, the brilliant, blue of the sky anil the 
In such a hostelry [ always found the tender green of the foliage. 
wharfmaster, in green coat, and cap, [f the inns were uniformly cleanly and 
asleep in an arm-chair, with the bingo- agreeable, so much could not he said for 
master and one or two idle landed pro- the villages, which were sometimes de- 
prietors sitting near him at a card-table, cidedly dirty. The cottages of the 
enveloped in such a cloud of smoke that peasants — that is of the agricultural la- 
one could scarcely see the long-necked borers — were windowless to a degree 
llasks of white wine which they were which led me to look for a small and 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



713 



dull-eved race ; 1 nit the eleganl orbs of 
youths and maidens in all this Banat 
land are rarely equalled in beauty. I 
found it in my heart, to object to the 
omnipresent swine. These cheerful ani- 
mals were sometimes so domesticated 
that they followed their masters and 
mistresses afield in the morning. In 
this section of Hungary, as indeed in 
must parts of Europe, the farm-houses 
are all huddled together in compact vil- 
lages, and the lands tilled by the dwell- 
ers in those communities extend for 
miles around them. At dawn the pro- 
cession of laborers goes forth, and at 
sunset it returns. Nothing ean give a 
better idea of rural simplicity and peace 
than the return of the peasants of a 
hamlet at eventide from their vineyards 
and meadows. Just as the sun was 
deluging the broad Danube with glory 
before relinquishing the current to the 
twilight's shades I came, in the soft 
April evening, into the neighborhood of 
Drenkova. A tranquil afterglow was 
here and there visible near the hills, 
which warded off the sun's passionate 
farewell glances at the vines and flowers. 
Beside the way, on the green banks, sat 
groups of children clad with paradisaical 
simplicity, awaiting their fathers and 
mothers. At a vineyard's hedge a sweet 
g'ul. tall, stately, and melancholy, was 
twining a garland in the cap of a stout 
young fellow who rested one broad 
hand lightly upon her shoulder. Old 
women, bent and wrinkled, hobbled out 
from the fields, getting help from their 
sons or grandsons. Sometimes I met a 
shaggy white horse drawing a cart, in 
which a dozen sonsie lasses, their faces 
browned by wind and their tresses 
blown back from their brows in most 
bewitching manner by the libertine 
breeze, were jolting homeward, singing 
as thev went. The young men in their 



loose linen garments, with their primi- 
tive hoes and spades on (heir shoulders, 
were as goodly specimens of manly 
strength and beauty as one could wish 
lo look upon. It hurt me to see them 
stand humbly ranged in rows as I passed. 
But it was pleasant lo note the fer- 
vor with which they knelt around the 
cross, rearing its sacred form amid the 
waving grasses. They knew nothing of 
the outer world, save from time to time 
the Emperor claimed certain of their 
number for his service, and that perhaps 
their lot- might lead them to the great 
city of Budapest. Everywhere as far 

as (lie eye could reach the land was cul- 
tivated with greatest care, ami plenty 
seemed the lot of all. The peasant lived 
in an ugly and windowless house be- 
cause his father and grandfather had 
done so before him, not because it was 
necessary. It was odd to sec "iris tall 
as Dian, and as fair, bending their pretty 
bodies to come out of the contempti- 
ble little apertures in the peasant houses 
called "doors." 

Drenkova is a long street of low cot- 
tages, with here and there a, two-story 
mansion, to denote thai, the proprietors 
of fhi' land reside there. As I ap- 
proached the entrance to this street I 
saw a most remarkable train coming to 
meet me. One "lance told me that, it 
was a large company of gypsies, who had 
come up from Roumania, and were going 
northward in search of work or plunder. 
My driver drew rein, and we allowed the 
swart, Bohemians lo pass on, — a courtesy 
which was gracefully acknowledged with 
a singularly sweet smile from the driver 
of the first cart. There were about two 
hundred men and women in this wagon 
train, audi verily believe that there were 
twice as many children. Each cart, 
drawn by a small Roumanian pony, con- 
tained two or three families huddled 



714 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



together, and seemingly lost in contem- 
plation of the beautiful sunset ; for your 
real gypsy is akeen admirer of nature and 
her charms. Some of the women were 
intensely hideous: age had made them as 
unattractive as in youth they had been 
pretty ; others were graceful and well 
formed. Many wore hut a single gar- 
ment. The men were wilder than any 
that I had ever before seen: their matted 
hail', their thick lips, and their dark eyes 
gave them almost die appearance of 
negroes. One or two of them had been 
foraging, and bore sheeps' heads and 
hares, which they had purchased or 
" taken " in the village. They halted 
as soon as they had passed me. and pre- 
pared to go into camp; so I waited a 
little to observe them. During the proc- 
ess of arranging the carts for the night 
one of the women became enraged at the 
father of her brood because lie would not 

aid her in the preparation of the simple 
tent under which the family was to re- 
pose. The woman ran to him, clinching 
her fist and screaming forth invective. 

which. I am convinced, hail I underst 1 

it, and had it been directed at me, 1 
should have found extremely disagree- 
able. After thus lashing the culprit 
with language for some time, she broke 
forth into screamsand danced frantically 
around him. lie arose, visibly dis- 
turbed, and 1 fancied that his savage 
nature would come uppermost, and that 
he might be impelled to give her a brutal 
beating, lint he, on the contrary, ad- 
vanced leisurely towards her and spat 
upon the ground with an expression of 
extreme contempt. She seemed to feel 
this much more than she would have felt 
a blow, and her fury redoubled. She 
likewise spat; he again repeated the 
contemptuous act; and. after both had 
gratified the anger which was consuming 
them, they walked off in different direc- 



tions. The battle was over, and I was 
not sorry to notice a few minutes later 
that pater familias had thought better of 
his conduct, and was himself spreading 
the tent and setting forth his wandering 
Lares and Penates. 

A few hundred yards from the point 
where these wanderer's had settled for 
night I found some rude huts, in which 
other gypsies were residing permanently. 
These huts were mere shelters placed 
against, steep banks or hedges, and 
within there was no furniture save one 
or two blankets, a camp-kettle, and 
some wicker baskets. Young girls 
twelve or thirteen years of age crouched 
naked about a smouldering lire. They 
did not seem unhappy or hungry ; and 
none of these strange people paid any 
attention to me as I drove on to the inn, 
which, oddly enough, was at some dis- 
tance from the main village, hard by 
the Danube side, in a gully between 
the mountains, where coal-barges lay 
moored. The Servian mountains, cov- 
ered from base to summit with dense 
forests, cast a deep gloom over the vale. 
In a garden, on a terrace behind the inn, 
by the light of a flickering candle. I ate a 
frugal dinner, and went to bed much im- 
pressed by the darkness, in such striking 
contrast to the delightful and picturesque 
scenes through which I had wandered all 
day. 

But I speedily forgot this next morn- 
ing when the landlord informed me 
thai, instead of toiling oyer the road 
along the crags to Orsova, whither I 
was returning, 1 could embark on a tug- 
boat bound for that cheerful spot, and 
could thus inspect the grand scenery 
of the Iron Gates from the river. The 
swift express boats, which in time of 
peace run from Vienna to Rustchuk, 
whisk the traveller so rapidly through 
these famous defiles that he sees little 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



715 



else than a panorama of high, rocky 
walls. But the slow-moving and clumsy 
tug, with its train of barges attached, 
offers better facilities to the lover of 
natural beauty. We had dropped down 
only a short distance below Drenkova 
before we found the river path filled 
with eddies, miniature whirlpools, de- 
noting the vicinity of the gorges into 
which the great current is compressed. 
These whirlpools all have names : one 
is called the "Buffalo;" asecond, "Ker- 
daps ; " a third is known as the " De- 
vourer." For three or four hours we ran 
in the shade of mighty walls of porphyry 
and granite, on whose tops were forests 
of oaks and elms. I could fancy that the 
veins of red porphyry running along 
the face of the granite were blood- 
stains, the tragic memorials of ancient 
battles; for, wild and inaccessible as 
this region seems, it lias been fought 
over and through in sternest, fashion. 
Perched on a little promontory <>n the 
Servian side is the tiny town of Poretch, 
where the brave shepherds and swine- 
herds fought the Turk, against whose 
oppression they bad risen, until they 
were overwhelmed by numbers, and 
their leader, Hadji Nikolos, lost his 
head. The Austrians point out witli 
pride the cave on the tremendous flank 
of Mt. Choukourou, where, two cen- 
turies ago, an Austrian general, at the 
head of seven hundred men. all that 
was left to him of a goodly army, sus- 
tained :i three months' siege against 
large Turkish forces. Tin's cave is 
perched high above the road at a point 
where it absolutely commands it, and 
the government of to-day. realizing its 
importance, has had it fortified ami 
furnished with walls pierced by loop- 
holes. Trajan fought his way through 



these defiles in the very infancy of the 
Christian era; ami in memory of his 
first splendid campaign against the 
Dacians he carved in the solid rock 
the letters, some of which are still visi- 
ble, and which, by their very grandilo- 
quence, oiler a mournful commentary 




HUNGARIAN TYPES. 

on the fleeting nature of human great- 
ness. Little did he think when his 
eyes rested lovingly on this inscription, 
beginning : — 

" Imji. Cces. />. NtrvcE Films Nerva. 
Trajanvs. Germ. Pont. Maximus" 

that Time, with profane hand, would 

wipe out the memon of many of his 
glories and would undo all the work 
that he had done. 



716 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE. 

A Journey through [ioumania in War Time. -- \ Khan. — Its Advantages and Disadvantages. —Primitive 
LiteoJ the Villagers. - On the Greal Plains.- The Water Wells. -The Approaches to Buchatest.— 
Roumanian Legends. —The Frontier <>i Europe. — French Influence in Run mania. Cui barest and 
\rw < >rlcans. 



M 



/TIDNIGHT. A. lonely khan on the They had forgotten for a few moments 

crest of a Roumanian hill, at to bay tlie moon, and had snatched a 

whose base stretches away a forest, fitful nap; hut our third shout brings 

Eastward, a broad plateau, impressive them around us in almost formidable 

by reason of its vastness. Here and numbers. One or two brutes leap ii]> to 

there, dotting the darkness which we snap al us, and the little liorses snort 

have left behind us, camp-fires, with with tenor; for your true Roumanian 

rude figures seated around them. The dog has very much of the wolf left in 

musical clink of a hammer on a gyp- him, and will lunch off a live traveller 

sy's anvil is borne I" us on the breeze: from time to time, while a dead one is 

the brown Bohemian is repairing a team- always acceptable. Jusl as we meditate 

stir's cart. He will labor all night, and firing our revolvers into the pack of 

to-morrow will slumber peacefully in the clamorous dogs a curious figure ap- 

shade of a tree. Midnight, and we are proaches. One glance is sufficient to 

hungry and weary ; so we raise our reveal that it is the night-watchman of 

voices in a prolonged shout. No an- the locality. He is a shambling, awk- 

swer. ward youth, clad iu red leggings, a 

But presently a huge black mass stuffed short jacket, and a sheepskin 

comes lumbering towards us. It is a cap. In one hand he carries a long and 

water-buffalo. He marches slowly, sol- antiquated gun, in the other a knife, in a 

eiuiily up to the horses, sniffs them wooden scabbard, from which an elab- 

contemptuously, then stands impudently orately carved handle of bone protrudes, 

eying us. wagging his stupid head, Without vouchsafing us a single word 

covered with baked mud, to and fro, he steps to the side of the khan's low 

and almost persuading us that he con- wall, and in a shrill voice addresses a 

templates an attack upon our party with series of reproaches to some unknown 

his crooked, useless bonis. Is be the person within. The language is not 

guardian of the khan? choice, so I will not repeat it. Presently 

We shout again, and charge on the a wide door swings open, and the 3011th, 
water-buffalo, forcing him by smart saluting us with the knife, shambles 
blows with our whips to retire, moan- into the shadows again, the does, who 
ing, and evidently considering himself a evidently recognize his authority, re- 
much-injured boast. Still HO answer. speetfully following him. 

We hatter at the door of the khan Dismounting from our jaded horses 

with all our might, and once more halloo we enter the chief room of the khan, 

with full force. Now the dogs awaken. On its mud floor half-a-dozen figures are 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



717 



stretched, and we can dimly see that 
they are human. Near the wall a huge 
black hog reclines, indulging in dreams 
of a porcine paradise. The light of the 
feeble lamp which the master of the 
khan carries in his hand enables us to 
see this, as well as to remark that fowls 
roost over the fireplace, and that a gaunt 
dog shows his teeth from a recess near 
that occupied by the swine. On the 
right hand from the entrance is a small 
room, the only furniture in which is a 
long wooden bench in front of a coarse 
counter and a few casks of wine backed 
against the wall. On the left is the 
room in which we are to sleep. A low 
divan extends around three sides of this 
small and uninviting chamber, and on the 
window-sills are placed painted imams 
of St. George and St. Michael. A 
rosary hangs from a wooden peg, and 
an ancient gun, of such complicated 
mechanism that it must require a liberal 
education to lire it off, stands in a corner. 
A Turkish water-basin and pitcher of 
beaten metal sit on the floor. A faint 
odor of binned garlic and cheap wine 
pervades the whole khan, and we awake 
in the morning impressed with the feel- 
ing that we have been immersed in a bath 
impregnated with those subtle aromas. 

The host, who is the only person in 
the village who appears to possess a 
whole coat, looks bewildered when asked 
by our guide if he can furnish the mate- 
rials for breakfast. lie rolls a cigarette, 
looks helplessly from side to side, and 
at last begins a series of apologies. 
The hens had laid some eggs yesterday, 
but Russian officers on the way to Bul- 
garia had purchased them. He does 
not like to kill his chickens. He is cot 
sure there is any bread left in the house. 
As lor meat, where can it be found? 
Certainly none of the inhabitants have 
any. Cheering prospect! On what, 



then, do the villagers subsist? The 
guide leads us to the door opening into 
the huge barn-yard of the khan and points 
to the driver of our wagon, who is seated 
on the ground, w ith a bit of straw spread 
before him. On this Stray is a small 
loaf of black bread, a large piece of 
white cheese, and a, little clay pot tilled 
with coarse hominy. Near by stands an 
earthen vase containing water. " That 
is the stuff that the villagers eat," said 
the guide. ••Sometimes they take the 
trouble to cook meat ; it is easy enough 
to get, but they are generally too lazy to 
prepare it. See, this is the end of the 
world ! How can you expect civilization 
here?" We go out, through a "ale in 
the wall, and look at the village. My 
first thought is that [ have suddenly been 
transported to Africa. Surely, these 
low, wattled huts, with round tops, with 
tiny doors, and scarcely any windows, 
are African in form ; and the dark faces 
[icering suspiciously from behind bits 
of fencing, are they not those of 
negroes? 

The strone; men and womenare afield, 
working actively before the heat of the 
day comes on. and only the children, 
the superannuated folk, and the dogs 
remain in the village. Most of the 
youthful population from the age of four 
to fourteen is naked, and leaps and 
runs unashamed along the hard roads 
between the huts. The only indication 
of real civilization in this community is 
a steam threshing-machine, which one 
of the landed proprietors of tin' neigh- 
borhood erected only last year. There 
is no church, no school, no public build- 
ing of any kind. No inhabitant seems 
to know anything of the country ten 
miles beyond Lis village. There is 
more intelligence among the wandering 
gypsies than in these stupid tillers of 
the soil, who arc content with so little. 



71. S 



EUROPE I.\ STORM AND CALM. 



and who fancy that the Roumanian prin- 
cipality is the whole world. 

This is, however, an exceptionally 
degraded section. We have passed 
through neat and handsome villages, 
where the small cottages, with the noisy 
storks clacking mi their roofs, were 
grouped in picturesque fashion, and 
where the Greek church-spire pointed 
heavenward, and the primary school was 
housed in a decent structure. Pretty 
girls in gay costumes were gathered at 
the fountains, and stout men leading 
bullocks attached to carts laden with the 
clops from the rich lands dolled their 
caps and sainted ns gracefully. But 
here, in this sun-baked, sun-swept, sun- 
burnished land, the men are surly, the 
women Ugly, the children sauev ami vi- 
cious. We begin to feel out of temper 
with this strange Roumanian province. 

1'resenllv we recover OUl' ei|lia lliinit V, 

for our wagoner, having thoughtfully 
finished his own breakfast first, manages 
to collect scraps enough for us, and my 
companions and I can at last ride on 
across the seemingly endless plains, 
through tin' forests of rustling corn, 
towards Bucharest. The sun is hoi; 
each horse as he plunges bis hoofs into 
the line sand in the way causes a dense 
cloud of dust to rise. As far as the eye 
can reach we can see the level plain 
before us, and a long row of well-sweeps. 
— which seem beckoning to us with their 
weird arms to hasten forward — marks 
the spots at which we must not fail to 
pause, and refresh our horses with 

water. Tin' Roumanian traveller offers 

drink to his steed every half hour; the 
beast moistens his lips, pricks up his 
ears, which were beginning to droop, and 
continues, much encouraged. 

The distances between these wells are 
strewn with the skeletons of bullocks 
and horses which have perished by the 



way: the deadening heat, under which 
unfortunate animals are often compelled 
to drag heavy burdens twelve or sixteen 
hours daily is fatal to them. It is a 
painful sight to see poor oxen, with 
tongues lolling out and eyes protruding 
from their sockets, struggling to reach a 
well before the death-stroke falls upon 
them. The unlucky teamster who tinds 
himself stranded on the sands by the 
loss of his team betakes himself to the 

whimsical objurgation of which the Roil- 
inanian peasants are so fond, then 
lights his cigarette and sits down philo- 
sophically until help arrives. In the 
open country in Roumania, as in Turkey, 
no one takes the precaution to bury 
carrion ; and he who has ever been un- 
fortunate enough to pitch his camp in 
the vicinity of some perished beasts of 
burden will never foiget it. 

On our journey from the Danube back 
to Bucharest we discovered that the 
only way to secure attention in the 
Roumanian villages of the section 
through which we were then passing was 
to command it. The peasants under- 
stood commerce but very poorly; an 
offer to buy food and grain was received 
much as a request for arms would be in 
Western Europe; but peremptory orders, 
though not much to the peasant's taste, 
were effectual. In this be much resem- 
bles bis Bulgarian neighbor ou the other 
side of the Danube. The stubborn- 
ness of the Roumanian with regard to 
some matters is remarkable, and is 
doubtless attributable to the indepen- 
dence that has crept into his character 
with the adoption of the exceedingly 
liberal new political constitution of the 
country. In endeavoring to purchase 
some of the bright although coarsely 
patterned carpets which the peasant, 
women weave there is no chance for 
barter. You may take or leave a ear- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



719 



pet, as you please : no persuasion ran 
alter the price primarily fixed upon it. 

Perhaps the most remarkable feature 
of Roumania is the enormous difference 
between the villages and the towns of 
moderate size, as well as the cities. 
Louis Blanc says that in France there 
is an abyss between the city and the 
country ; and this would certainly seem 
to be the case in the Wallachian princi- 
pality. The towns are full of activity, 
and in certain kinds of trade manifest 
real energy ; but five miles from any 
town most of the villages are semi- 
barbaric. They spoke with discouraged 
tone of the burdens of war and the slow 
progress of education consequent upon 
the poverty of the country. But it 
must not be supposed that Roumania is 
indifferent to the cause of national edu- 
cation. The constitution provides for a 
liberal primary instruction, and renders 
it compulsory " wherever schools arc 
established." Each village or district is 
supposed to provide funds for the sup- 
port of free schools, but the villagers 
plead their extreme misery as an excuse, 
and prefer to keep their children steadily 
at work as soon as they arc Strong 
enough to go afield, rather than to ac- 
cord them time to study. There were, 
nevertheless, but a few years since, 
nearly one hundred and twenty-live thou- 
sand children frequenting rural primary 
schools, and over sixty thousand were 
receiving elementary education in city 
schools. Instruction in Roumania is di- 
vided, as in France, into three grades, — 
primary, secondary, and superior or pro- 
fessional. In the highest grade the 
Roumanians have numerous establish- 
ments which will bear favorable com- 
parison with similar ones in other lands. 

The khan, the monastery, and the 
villager's hut being the only shelters for 
the traveller across the mighty plains or 



through the rugged mountains of the 
principality, it is not astonishing that 
when lie arrives in Bucharest, the capi- 
tal, he is ready to bestow upon it all the 
extravagant titles which it has received 
during the last generation, such as "The 
City of Pleasure," " Paris in the East," 
" The Wanderer's Paradise, "etc. After 
months of weary wandering in Turkey in 
Europe, he who reaches the well-kept 
and tidy streets of the handsome new 
quarter of Bucharest, — who finds himself 
once more dazzled by the glitter of Eu- 
ropean uniforms and surrounded by evi- 
dence of luxury and fashion, the very 
memory of which had begun to fade from 
his mind, — is amazed and enchanted. 
It is like coining out of a dreary desert 
directly upon a garden filled with choice 
and beautiful flowers, with rippling riv- 
ulets and plashing fountains. We en- 
tered Bucharest from the plains, and so 
its picturesqueness and the magic of the 
change were both enhanced. Advancing 
rapidly, two hours before sunset, towards 
the town, which I could see before me 
miles away, I could observe nothing 
specially attractive in its appearance. 
But as I reached the vicinity of a long 
line of massive ancient buildings in the 
outskirts of Bucharest the sun was just 
deluging their gayly painted and deco- 
rated walls with floods of light. The 
picture was a lovely one. and distinctly 
original. I rode on in a kind of spell, 
produced by the mystical afterglow, 
through narrow lanes lined on either side 
with liliputian houses set down in the 
middle of green lawns ; under frowning 
arches ; through alleys paved with stones, 
each one of which seemed struggling out 
of the earth to smite the impertinent 
new-comer; past a convent with its por- 
tals covered with pictures of saints and 
martyrs; past a grim modern barrack, 
in front of which stood a swart sentry 



720 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

holding a drawn sword; then over a who in ancient times pastured his Hock 

naked parade-ground ; and, finally, in on a hill now occupied by the cathedral 

rugged and unimposing procession, my and legislative palace, and who had 

companions ami 1 drew rein on a boule- then' built a chapel to St. Athanasius, 

van! no whit inferior in magnificence, as as well as a hut for himself. His chil- 

far as it extended, to those of I'aris, and dren are supposed to have taken the name 

alighted at a palatial hotel, which formed of the Hucnresci, the plural of Bucur, 

a curious contrast to the khan before according to the custom, and to have 

whose door a few evenings previous we given it to the hamlet which their father 

had loudly clamored. had founded. MacarillS, the Patriarch 

The Roumanians are very proud of of Autioch, who visited the town about 

their capital, which is the most impor- the middle of the seventeenth century, 

taut city in all the Danubian principal- has left in his memoirs the statement 

ities. and has an entertaining history, that it then had one hundred thousand 

Belgrade is but a miserable village com- inhabitants, six thousand houses, and 

pared with Tiucuresci (pronounced Boa- forty churches and monasteries. Since 

courechti, if you wish to represent that time, despite most frightful visita- 

faithflllly to yourself the Wallachian lions of pestilence, — to which it appeals 

name of thecitv). There are so manv to have been particularly subject during 

legends concerning the origin of this the last century, — despite conflagrations 

quaint name that people generally choose and wars, and foreign occupations, it 

that, which pleases their fancy most. has grown to comprise within its limits 

The intelligent classes seem to divide over two hundred and fifty thousand 

their preference between two stories. people. The plague has not visited 

The first explains the manner in which Bucharest since 1813, when seventy thou- 

Bucharesf gained the sobriquet of "City sand persons perished in less limn six 

of Pleasure. " It is related that once weeks. The principality hardly rallied 

upon a time, when the Turks had in- for a generation after this crushing blow, 

vaded VVallachia, before retiring they Turk, Russian, and Austrian made 

demanded a tribute of ten thousand themselves very much at home in Bucha- 

ducats and five hundred boys. Great rest iu the eighteenth century, and one 

was the indignation at tins insolent can excuse some of the extreme jealousy 

demand, and the result was a battle, in which Roumanians of the present day 

which Mii/ea the Elder defeated the feel with regard to strangers when one 

Ottomans with terrific slaughter, and remembers how unhappy their experience 

compelled the survivors to fly. Thank- of foreigners has been. When the Rus- 

ful for his victory, he built a memorial sians first came into the country, in 1*77. 

chinch and a princely palace at. a spot numbers of tlic elder inhabitants groaned 

which is now the site of Bucharest, and aloud aial exclaimed. " What shad we 

which is supposed to have gained its lose this time ? " 

name at that time from the mail} rejoic- Bucharest can he reached from the 

ino'B over victory, as bucurie in the Ron- capitals of Western Europe by three 

inanian tongue means "joy." This ionics, the most direct and important 

legend being somewhat misty, others being the railroad leading through the 

believe that Bucharest takes its name Austrian Bukovina and by way of Lem- 

from an historical shepherd named 1 Incur, berg and Cracow to Vienna ; I he second a 



EUROrE IN STORM AND CALM. 



721 



railway passing through the fertile re- 
gions of Little Wallachia to the Danube 
bank, and thence toOrsova,in Hungary, 
where it now connects with the branch 
tapping the main line from Pesth t<> 
Vienna ; and the third by steam-boat on 
the Danube from Vienna or Pesth to 
Giurgevo, the Roumanian port opposite 
Rustchuk, in Bulgaria, and one of the 
most important of the Russian stations 
during the war with Turkey. Four days 
of steady travel by express trains and the 
expenditure of a little more than a hun- 
dred dollars in gold for fares and trans- 
port of baggage will take the traveller 
from Palis to Bucharest by the most 
direct route. 

The Roumanian gentleman is usually 
educated in France, and always pre- 
serves the fondest remembrance aud 
liveliest affectiou for that cheerful 
country. Indeed, the stranger who 
plunges into Roumania without any pre- 
vious knowledge of its history or charac- 
ter can almost persuade himself that lie 
has fallen upon a French province in 
the Orient. The uniforms of gendarmes 
at the railway stations, of customs offi- 
cials, of policemen, are French iu pat- 
tern ; the army officers seem to have just 
left the barracks of Paris ; and French 
is spoken with great purity aud with no 
perceptible foreign accent by all edu- 
cated people. The Roumanians, like 
the Russians, appear to possess an ex- 
traordinary facility for acquiring foreign 
languages. Now that they have a Ger- 
man prince to rule over them, the upper 
classes cultivate the German language, 
and the names of the fashionable trades- 
men on the principal streets end in em 
or ein, and are prefaced with the respect- 
able and venerable patronymics of 
Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The Jew 
has a certain commercial force and in- 
fluential position in the principality, al- 



though he is bitterly hated and often sub- 
jected to downright abuse by the native 
Roumanians. In a small town near 
.lassy. during my visit to Roumania in 
the spring of last year, two .lews were 
beaten almost to death, with circum- 
stances of barbarous and bestial cruelty 
attending the ferocious punishment, 
simply because one of them had given a 
quick answer to a police-master who 
told him that Jews had no business to 
be silting outside their houses late at 
night. Both Russians and Roumanians 
are intolerant and ungenerous in a star- 
tling degree with regard to the Hebrew 
trader. It is also to be said that the 
.lew gives considerable provocation, and 
that his extreme sharpness in money 
matters provokes envy and a desire on 
the part of the ignorant and often fa- 
natical agricultural population of Rou- 
mania to get even with him by means 
of sundry well-bestowed thrashings and 
kickings. Thousands of .lews followed 
the Russian army into Roumania and 
down to the Danube, and a recital of 
some of the expedients to which they 
resorted for amassing fortunes speedily 
would go far in the minds of many to 
excuse the extreme measures sometimes 
taken against them. It is probable 
that as Roumania becomes more gener- 
ally intelligent and prosperous a preju- 
dice which is degrading and unworthy of 
the civilization of the nineteenth century 

will die away, and the Hebrew will pur- 
sue those callings for which he has es- 
pecial fitness unrestrained ami without 
fear of ill-treatment. 

In midsummer there are many charac- 
teristics in the life of Bucharest which 
remind tin- American of New Orleans. 
Both are lowland cities ; both allow the 

visitor to realize to the full the inex- 
pressible witchery of the strange south- 
ern twilight and the glamour of restful 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



afternoons; and both have an immense 
vagabond population. As New Orleans 
has the vagrant negro, so Bucharest has 
the gypsy, the joyous, thievish, patient, 
long-suffering, and, on the whole, much- 
to-be-admired Tsigane. The mystic 
children of the Hast number more than 
three hundred thousand in Moldavia and 
Wallachia, the two ancient provinces 
now definitely united under the name 
of Roumania, and naturally there art 
many thousands of them in Bucharest. 
The race has been freed from slavery 
only about twenty years, and is still 
much lower in the ■intellectual and moral 
scale than our freedmen of the Southern 
lowlands. The Tsiganes emigrated by 
thousands from Roumania into Austria 
ami Hungary as soon as the war began. 
They possess the impudence of the de- 
mon, and are masters in the art of lying. 
But little is expected of them, and the 
Bucharestians, who are in general de- 
cent, and in many respects refined, folks, 
complacently allow gypsy women un- 
clad to bathe in broad daylight in the 
river Dimbovitza, which courses directly 
through the middle of the populous city. 
They say. "It is only a gypsy; and 
what does it matter? " 

The visitor to (he Roumanian capital 
must beware of one danger if he wishes 
to continue in the good graces of the cit- 
izens. He must on all occasions, and 
with extreme gusto, praise the Dimbo- 



vitza as the most charming of European 
streams. It really is nothing of the 
soil ; it is a small yellow current, and 
looks so uninviting that one can scarcely 
understand how the gypsy beauties can 
consent to lave their dusky persons in it. 
Hut. every descendant of Trajan's colo- 
nists believes it to be a stream quite as 
classical as the Tiber, and a loving 
couplet in the soft Roumanian language 
asserts — - 

" Dimbovitza, loveliest water ! 
lie who drinks can never leave thee." 

Let, me Sadd that this superstition, 
which would be rather pretty if the 
water were clearer, has thousands of 
believers among the lower classes, who 
are eminently superstitious. The gypsy 
mason, before he lays the foundations of 
the stone house which he is engaged to 
build, slyly measures the shadow of 
some unwary passer-by with a branch 
which he buries in the soil where the 
nether stones are to repose. He and 
all companions in his craft throughout 
Roumania believe that the person whose 
shade is thus measured will die soon 
thereafter, and that his spirit is doomed 
to haunt the house when it is built. 
Each house has its staltib, or spirit, of 
this kind, and many wondrous stories 
are told of their mysterious appearances 
and disappearances. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



72;: 



CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO. 



Notes on Bucharest. — Streets ami Street Types.- - The Wallaeliiau Soldiers. — ( lonscriptc 1 Peasantry. - 
Roumanian Independence. — Priests and Churches. 



years ago. In spring and summer it is 
a delightful promenade, and from seven 
to ten o'clock on summer evenings all the 
ladies of Bucharest society are to la- seen 
there, languidly reposing in their car- 
riages, and sipping iees. Bucharest lias. 
I should think, as many carriages as New 
York, for there are on all occasions 
hundreds to be had if wanted, and the 
drivers urge their horses forward at such 
a rattling pti.ee, except during the grand 
procession of fashion on the Chausse'e, 
that the stranger finds some little diffi- 
culty in keeping his seat. These drivers 
in Bucharest, and in most of the large 
Roumanian towns, are members of the 
sect of Russian Skoptsi, or self-muti- 
lators. They wear flat bine caps, long 
blue coats, and fancy boots. — a gala cos- 
tume which accords but poorly with their 
faces of parchment, their lack-lustre eyes, 
their piping voices. Most, of them do 
not know ten words of the Wallachian 
language, and they are guided entirely 
by gestures. A touch on their right arm 
sends them to the right ; on the left, to 
the left ; and a tap on the back brings 
them to a full stop. The spectacle of 
several hundreds of the carriages racing 
madly to and fro, filled with officers 
beating perpetual tattoo on the backs, 
arms, and ribs of the blue-coated autom- 
atons, as on the occasion of the arri- 
val of the Czar of Russia in Bucharest, 
was at. once ludicrous and inspiring. 

I fancy there is no other avenue in 
Europe where one may see as many curi- 



i>TJT to return to Bucharest. It has 
-L-' a principal street, called the " Podan 
Mogosoi'" {sol being pronounced as if it 
were i-ho'i). This runs from south to 
north through the city, and along its 
sides are ranged the principal hotels, the 
cafes, the one pretty theatre (Teatru 
National" ) , the palace of the reigning 
prince, some of the ministerial offices, 
and nearly all of the consular and diplo- 
matic residences. Bucharest has always 
been considered an important point for 
the maintenance of diplomatic agents, as 
from thence one gets a wide lookout 
over Turkey in Europe; and all the great 
powers have handsome mansions estab- 
lished there, in which keen consular 
agents with diplomatic functions keep a 
sharp wateli on each other and write long 
reports to their governments. In inter- 
vals of leisure they amuse themselves 
with attending to court etiquette, and 
with the pleasant and brilliant society of 
this odd capital, so far away from the 
shining centres of Western Europe. 
Many of these agents have written clever 
books on the Roumanians and their neigh- 
bors. Beyond these diplomatic mansions 
the Podan Mogosoi leads past oue, or at 
most two, story houses, set down in little 
gardens, until it reaches the Chaussee. 
This pretty park, with tine drive-ways 
running through it, was named the 
"Chaussee Kisselef" (Kisselef road), 
after the Russian general, who originated 
its plan ami urged the inhabitants to 
create it, when he was stationed there 



724 



Eri;i>VE IN STORM AND CALM. 



ous and striking figures as on the Podan 
Mogosoi. There are prosperous farmers 
in Roumania, although the villages are 
squalid and semi-barbarous, and these 

people take solid satisfaction in coming 
to Bucharest once or twice a year. All 
summer long, and at all hours of the 
dav. the promenadcr may meet the tiller 
of the soil, his wife, and their pretty 
brown-eyed daughter in procession visit- 
ing the shops on the Mogosoi. The 
father weai-s a linen suit, ornamented 
with red or blue; the trousers are so wide 
that they seem like meal-bags; the 
jacket is also ample, and the bold rustic 
displays the massive square of his more 
or less heroic breast, which is burned to 
a deep red by the generous sun. His 
head is crowned with a broad black hat, 
almost as ugly as that of a Spanish priest ; 
sometimes he is barefooted, and some- 
times he wears coarse shoes. The 
women's costumes are at once simple and 
picturesque : their jackets and skirts are 
made of coarse stuffs, tastefully orna- 
mented ; and a scarf protects the head 
and face from the blinding light. In the 
spring and autumn rainy seasons, when 
the Roumanian village streets are turned 
into mud-beds, the women wear tall 
boots, which disfigure them and render 
their gait exceedingly awkward. The 
failed is armed usually, but only with a 
little knife, which would serve in ease 
some vagabond attacked him. Crime is 
not frequent in Roumania : cases of as- 
sassination are almost unheard of in the 
large towns, anil in the wild and remote 
districts brigandage yearly becomes less 
aiidless troublesome. The brigand, when 
he is caught, gets short shrift. A friend 
of mine was travelling ten years since iu 
a thinly settled section of the province, 
and was attacked in a wooded place by 
two rascals, who shot at him anil his ser- 
vant. As they approached the wagon 



my friend took good aim and shot one of 
the brigands dead ; the other ran away. 

The gentleman drove to the next 

town, and narrated the occurrence to 
the local authorities. " Hum ! " said the 
police agent: " we'll send some one out 
to find out who it was. and to bury him, 
in a day 01 two." 

The stout and awkward Wallachian 
soldier is a familiar figure on the 
Mogosoi. lie is not handsome, and the 
national cap, to which In- so fondly 
clings, does not palliate his naturally 
uncouth appearance. Bui he is good- 
natured, earnest, and there never was a 
viler slander than that which denounced 
him as cowardly. He demonstrated his 
valor in front of Plevna again and 
again. His uniform is extremely simple, 
and he cannot be persuaded to wear it 
trimly and neatly. He looks supremely 
unhappy when compelled to maintain a 
still' military aspect, as when on guard 
at the prince's palace or one of the 
ministries. He loves to crouch down 
on the sunny side of a wall and smoke a 
cigarette and listen to a good story. 
But if he sees the priest coining he will 
instantly rise to his feet, doll' his homely 
cap, bend his knees, and kiss the priestly 
hand which is held forth in token of 
favor. 

There are numerous smartly uniformed 
special corps in the Roumanian capital. 
The lifeguards of the prince are mighty 
fellows, six feet two or three inches tall, 
ami ariayed as gorgeously as the carabin- 
eers in Offenbach's opera. There is a 
body dressed somewhat in imitation of 
Italian bersaglieri, ami a detachment of 
these bright little fellows in jaunty 
dress mart-lies through the principal 
streets at noontide to the sound of in- 
spiring music, carrying the garrison 
Hag when they go to relieve guard. A 
peculiarity which puzzled me was the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



725 



constant playing by the military bands 
of our old war tunes, such as : " Tramp, 
tramp, tramp," "John Brown," " Mother, 
I've come home to die," etc. At first it 
occurred to me that an American band- 
master might be among the musicians ; 
but I could not discover one. Perhaps 
the Roumanians have found that the 
simple melodies of which our soldiers 
were so fond have also a special fitness 
for their own military purposes. It is 
certain that they have adopted them in 
large numbers. 

The policemen, the officers of crack 
corps, the prefects and sub-prefects, 
and, in short, most of the uniformed 
officials, follow French models with the 
greatest closeness. Enter a cafe or a 
chocolate-vender's on the Mogoso'i on a 
summer evening, and one may persuade 
himself that he is in Paris, — all the more 
readily as it is probable that nine out of 
ten persons will bespeaking the Gallic 
tongue. If some representative of the 
court happens in, every one will fall 
back into Roumanian, or possibly some 
few will indulge in German. The officers 
are elegant, dashing fellows, and bestow 
quite as much attention on their toilets 
as is allowable for man. The plain, 
sturdy Russians looked at them with 
some contempt when they first came 
among them, on account of their affecta- 
tion ; but when they discovered that the 
handsome boys could tight as well as 
twirl their mustaches they were de- 
lighted. 

A sorrowful spectacle on the Mogoso'i 
now and then is a conscripted peasant 
in the clutch of the military authorities. 
The poor wretch hurries angrily along, 
his brow clouded, often his eyes filled 
with tears, while behind him walks a 
gendarme with drawn sword, ready to 
cut him down if he attempts to escape. 
The peasants of Roumauia suffer nearly 



as much from homesickness as do the 
Turks, and when the conscription drags 
them from their beloved villages they 
are half ready to commit suicide. The 
glare and glitter of the "Paris of the 
East" does not compensate them for the 
change from farm to garrison. They 
sigh for the tall fields of rustling corn, 
the hot breezes which now and then blow 
from the south across the vast plains, 
the water-buffaloes, and the huts in 
whose thatch the stork trustingly nestles. 
Since Roumania has won her inde- 
pendence her army has become of greater 
importance than ever before, and offers 
a good career to many enterprising men. 
Rut it is unfortunate that so small a 
state is compelled to maintain a com- 
paratively large standing army. If the 
forty or fifty thousand men Roumania 
now requires as soldiers and officers 
were engaged in manufactures, or in 
developing the marvellous mineral and 
agricultural resources of one of the 
richest of provinces, the country would 
so, ,11 take important rank in Europe. 
At present every Roumanian is com- 
pelled to serve either in the permauent 
army or in the militia. This latter 
organization always amounts to about a 
hundred thousand men, thirty-two regi- 
ments of which arc known as the 
dorobansi, who take the place of the old 
frontier guardsmen ; twelve regiments as 
calarasi, or departmental gendarmerie, 
and fourteen flatteries of artillery, which 
oddly enough perforin in peace the duties 
of firemen. These are garrisoned in the 
principal towns. The Roumanians real- 
ize to the fullest extent that the Hun- 
garians are their implacable enemies, and 
that part of their frontier which touches 
Hungary is most efficiently guarded. 
The five millions of Roumanian folk in 
the kingdom know also that there are 
three or four millions more of the same 



72*1 EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 

blood scattered about in Hungary, Tran- ideal of the priesthood. He has the sad, 

sylvania, and the Bukovina, and it may sweet face, with the low brow crowned 

be with sunn' idea of bringing their wan- with flowing locks parted in the middle, 

dering brethren under the old flag at a such as we have seen in the works of the 

future day that they keep their army up, old Byzantine artists. An expression of 

spending even in ordinary years, as they tender and subdued melancholy hovers 

did in 18S4-5, twenty-one millions of about the thin lips, and a chastened spirit 

francs upon it. and only about a third as beams from the frank and widely opened 

much on agriculture, commerce, and pub- eyes. A tine inspiration seems to hover 

lie works. As for the Roumanian navy, about the man, warding off the grossness 

it is easy enough to support, for it boasts of the lower nature and urging him on 

only one large war-ship, the " Mirzea," to lofty ami noble deed-.. His step is 

finished in 1883, besides three gun-boats, slow and plantigrade; his gestures are 

three torpedo boats, ami a number of impressive ; liis benedictions imposing. 

police sloops for the Danube, and musters I have not wondered when I have seen 

scarcely a thousand men. peasants kneeling in a kind of adoration 

The stranger on the Mogoso'i is puz- before such a man as he blessed their 

zled in noticing that some police agents bread, their houses, or their babies. 

and postmen wear red stripes upon their The Cossack, as he rode through the 

uniforms, while others are striped with streets of Bucharest on his way to Bul- 

black, others with green, and still others garia, bent from his saddle to kiss the 

with yellow and blue. The fact is that hand of the priest, and crossed himself 

Bucharest is divided into five large wards, religiously when passing the decorated 

which are distinguished from each other portico of some one of the many wooden 

by the names of colors. The northern churches, (hie fat and rather disagree- 

sectiou, in which the aristocracy reside, able-looking old priest, who was evi- 

has yellow for its line, and this color dently a dignitary of high order, 

will he found on the letter-boxes, lamp- promenaded the Mogosoi' every day of 

posts, the collars of uniforms, etc. my stay in Bucharest. At his approach 

Red is the commercial and plebeian dye ; women began to crouch, men to drop 

green means west; black, east, and their cigars or to hide them, and to 

blue, south. A strongly marked local shuffle their rosaries, and children stood 

pride is visible among the inhabitants pale and mute before him. Form is 

of each of these quarters; and the everything in Rounmuia, and the exterior 

lucky result is that there is no section formulas of religion are scrupulously 

of Bucharest which does not boast at observed by all classes born in the faith 

least one or two fine edifices, public or of the Orthodox Greek church. I have 

private. often met a slow and solemn procession 

Priests are plenty on the Mogosoi*,— of priests bearing the sacrament to the 
priests large and small, fat and lean, dying. The principal offlciator marched 
old and young. They are not always proudly ahead with swelling front; be- 
cleanly, I regret to say, and when their hind him followed meek curis and 
fall brimless hats and long black robes acolytes with eyes bent on the ground, 
arc stained and dusty they are not in- Companies of chanting priests were 
(.cresting figures. But now and then one always meeting the Russians at impor- 
ts to be seen who seems the incarnate tant points both in Bulgaria and Rounia- 



El'ROl'l-: IX STORM AND CALM 



727 



nia in 1877, holding up the sacred 
images for them to kiss, and offering 
them bread and salt in token of welcome. 
Some of these ceremonies were notably 
impressive. Emperor and grand dukes 
bowed before the uplifted hand of the 
rustic man <>t' Cud, and the Emperor's 
first act on arriving at Bucharest was to 
kiss the golden crucifix which the metro- 
politan archbishop held out to him. 

The Roumanian church is free from 
any foreign dominion whatsoever. The 
principality is divided into eight dioceses. 
of which two are archbishoprics, having 
their scats at Bucharest and .Jassv. and 
six are bishoprics. The Archbishop of 
Bucharest is the chief, and is known by 
the high-sounding title of ■• the Metro- 
politan of Hungro-Wallaehia." The 
clergy is divided into •' secular" and 
•■ regular." each class comprising from 
nine to ten thousand men. All other 
religions besides those of the established 
church are as free as in America. Even 
the persecuted .lew is not troubled on 
account of his religion, and may have 
his choice of thirty synagogues and 
oratories in Bucharest to worship in. I 
fear that the Roumanian men are at 
heart as little devoted to Greek as 
Frenchmen are to Roman Catholicism. 
In both countries it is the women who 
maintain the Church. The sumptuous 
ceremonials of the Greek religion have a. 
powerful hold on the imaginative, ro- 
mantic, sensuous Wallaehian women. 

It is but a short distance from the 
Podan Mogosoi', along a beautiful tree- 
bordered avenue, to the hill on which 
stands the Metropolitan Church of Bu- 
charest. From the plain it looks more 
like a fortress than a house of God, for 
three stout towers surmount the huge 
structure, built in the form of a cross, 
like most Greek churches, with the 
head turned towards the cast, and 



surrounded by a vast cloister studded 
with small towers. The domes and the 
roof of the basilica are covered with 
lead. The church was restored in 1834, 
hut it is probable that the leaden roofs 
are much the same as those of which 
the Patriarch of Antioch speaks in his 
account of Bucharest, written about the 
middle of the seventeenth century. 
Macarius reported that this roof weighed 
more than a hundred thousand pounds. 
Inside the edifice is ornamented with 
much luxury and taste. The arabesques 
especially remind one that he is in 
South-eastern Europe. The frescos cm 
the exterior walls are mostly crude, and 
in some cases worse than ordinary. 
They represent episodes from the 
Apocalypse and from the Scriptures 
in general. All Roumanian churches 
have something of this exterior decora- 
tion, and one or two of the churches 
are brilliant in color. If a Puritan 
could see them in the midst of their 
pretty gardens he would cry out against 
them as too gav for houses of prayer. 
In the same cloister which surrounds 
the Metropolitan Church the National 
Chamber of Deputies is installed. 
Looking down in midsummer from the 
entrance to this legislative hall over the 
city, one can see nothing hut a far-ex- 
tending ocean of verdure, pierced here 
and there by a yellow tower or a white 
dome. Bucharest seems asleep among 
the trees. 

St. Spiridion the New, not far from 
the Metropolitan, is the most beautiful 
as well as the most costly church in 
Roumania, always excepting the match- 
less Cathedral of Argesu. It is scarcely a 
generation old, ami nearly all the marbles 
and frescos in it are the work' of young 
Roumanian artists. The standards and 
sceptres of the Fanariote beys, who for- 
merly came to the church which once 



728 



EUROPE J.V STOIDf AND CALM. 



stood 011 this siii- to be crowned, are 
preserved in St. Spiridion the New. 
With St. Spiridion the Old, which stands 
in the commercial quarter of Bucharest, 
a strange story is connected. The body 
of the voivoda Constantine Hangerli, 
who was beheaded by order of the Porte, 
in L799, lies buried there. The man- 
ner in which this unfortunate official 
met his death admirably illustrates the 
barbarous conduct <>!' the Turks in 
their subject Danubian provinces. The 
government at Constantinople was 
dissatisfied with the administration of 
Constantine, whom it hail placed in power 
in Bucharest, ami determined to replace 
him. This is the way in which it was 
done: One day a Turkish official, ac- 
companied by a hideous negro and two 
slaves, arrived in Bucharest, and went 
straight to the palace. Without ex- 
plaining their mission they entered 
Constantine's apartment, and the negro 
killed him with a pistol-shot. The 
Turkish official then plunged his knife 

into the dead mall's breast, CUt Off his 
head, ami threw the body, stripped 
naked, into the court-yard covered with 
snow. This interesting party then re- 
tired, carrying off the slaughtered voi- 
voda' s head, and in course of time 
the l'oiie named a successor to Constan- 
tine. The Roumanian population was 
so horrified by this barbaric acl that it 
was some days before any one dared to 
remove the body. Ami this happened 
little more than three-quarters of a cen- 
tury ago ! 

The memory of another Constantine, 
who was also beheaded by his ferocious 
masters, the Turks, after he hail Keen 
hospodar of Rou mania for a short time, 
is recalled by the Church of Caltzea, 
which is one of the interesting edifices 
of Bucharest. This church is said to 
have been constructed by the Swedish 



soldiers who took refuge in Roumania 
after their disaster. Charles XII., 
when he was transferred from Bender to 
Demotica, in 1713, passed a night at 
Caltzea. which was then just finished. 
The hospodar, Constantine Brancovano, 
went to meet the great man at the gates 
of the city, and in the course of compli- 
mentary conversation observed, "We 
have heard that Your Majesty has slain 
as many as twenty Janissaries with your 
own hand." " Ah ! " said Charles, mod- 
estly. " you know people always exag- 
gerate by at least one-half." 

On the Mogosoi stands the Sarindav, 
a church in which is carefully enshrined 
a so-called miraculous image of the 
Blessed Virgin. [Matthew Bassaraba, a 
pious prince, built the church in 1634, 
and Roumanian annals record him as 
instrumental in the building of thirty- 
nine other sacred edifices. When the 
prince or any other great personage 
falls seriously ill the sacred image is 

taken from the Sarindav and borne to the 
house of the sufferer hy priests, who ride 
in a gala carriage, before which lighted 

candles are borne. The people in the 
streets kneel, or make profound obeisan- 
ces, as the image passes. If the sufferer 
is a person in ordinary circumstances a 
monk in a hired carriage bears to him a 
small image which is a copy of the more 
wonderful one. 

of the ninety-six Orthodox churches 
of Bucharest about one-half ate his- 
torically interesting. Each has its 
legend, its ballad, or its curious inci- 
dent, which the parishioners are never 
tired of repeating to strangers. Most 
of the intelligent inhabitants arc familiar 
with the story of the origin of the 
monastery church of Mihail Voda, pict- 
uresquely situated on one of the few 
eminences in Bucharest. " Vlad the 
Devil," a great ruler and fighter in the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



729 



Wallachian days, is believed to have 
founded this church in 14oC. This Ylad 
was a wild fellow, and perhaps desired 
to ease his conscience by establishing 
churches. His career was filled with 
deeds of the most diabolical ferocity, 
and it is said that he once caused 
twenty-five thousand Turkish prisoners 
to be impaled. The old church is now 
rapidly crumbling to decay. 

The barefooted and often bareheaded 
newsboy, rushing wildly along beneath 
the awnings in the heated streets and 
thrusting sheets damp from the press 



under the noses of the pedestrians re- 
minds the American of home, and that 
the press is absolutely free in Roumania. 
Everything and everybody receive ample 
criticism, and at all hours of the day 
one hears the boys crying " Prisa!" 
" Momanul!" ''■Romania Libera!" and 
a dozen other journals more or less 
important. Bucharest has a large read- 
ing population, but nine out of ten of 
the village folk can neither read nor 
write, and look upon a newspaper as the 
most utterly superfluous of things. 



730 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE. 

The Garden of Herestreu. — Gypsy Music. — Roumanian Amusements. — Prince Gortschakoff ai Bucha- 
rest. General I^natieff. — Roumanian Houses. — Ploiesci. — A Funeral in Roumania. — A Bit "i 
History. —A Liberal t onstitulion. — Kin<f Charles. — The Upgrowth of Literature. 

THE gypsy's eves are wonderfully Wallachian beer. A few semi-civilized 
brown and soft, and as- he lays tillers of the soil are galloping home- 
aside his ijn'Jii. the musical instrument ward on their merry little horses, whose 
from which he has just evoked such pas- breakneck pace seems likely to bring 
sionate sounds, and approaches us. ex- misfortune to the unsteady riders. Wine 
tending his lean hand and shrugging his has (lowed in rivulets in the shops in the 
shoulders with deprecatory air, it is hard shabby streets just outside the town, for 
to send him away with an angry word, it is a "market-day." At Baniassa, 
A few bard content him, and he returns once a favorite suburban resort for Bu- 
to the shade of a friendly tree, and, with charest's fashionable folk, a few thou- 
his companions, sings a round of deli- sand sturdy Russians are encamped, and 
cious melodies, each and till filled with :i hum arising from their tented city is 
wild and plaintive chords, wilh lender borne on the evening breeze to listeners 
melancholy, and a rude eloquence almost a mile away 

surprising. Within this magic close of Herestreu 

We are seated in the garden of He- one forgets everything but the entranc- 

restreu, outside- the city of Bucharest iug melody of the dark-skinned vaga- 

llerestreit is tin oasis crowded with dc- bond choir squatted under the trees. 

lights iii tlie middle of a comparatively Who would have suspected that beneath 

uninteresting plain. When the rich these scowling brows, these uneasy eyes, 

southern moonlighl showers its glory these foreheads crowned with masses 

on the green sward and among the odor- of inky hair, lay such power of poetic 

mis vines and flowers the beauty and expression? The men are marvels: 

fashion of the Roumanian capital seek when they sine they seem inspired ; 

respite from the toils of the parlor and their faces are transfigured ; their hands 

the ball-room in this charming spot, tremble ; their lips quiver with excite- 

For half a mile round about, pretty vil- ment. On the throbbing current of their 

las surrounded by well-kept gardens sensuous song one is borne into a region 

are scattered tit rare intervals ; but with of enchantment. < hie hems the musical 

this exception, the stretch of land is flow of the great Danube past the mighty 

barren and uninviting. At a place crags and through the vast valleys where 

where four roads meet, a long, one-story Trajan once camped and fought and 

inn, with grotesque figures painted on worked; one sees the misty blue of the 

it -table-door, rears its abject front, hills over which the Hungarian hunter 

In the yard of this caravansary a few tramps merrily at sunrise to the refrain 

slatternly "iris are romping, and one or of the horn : one seats oneself in nooks 

two peasants sit moodily drinking sour where the purple grape-clusters move 



EUROrE IS STORM AM> CALM. 



731 



heavily to and fro above him ; one 
stands by the foot of some moss-grown 
cross in an ancient village and watches 
youths and maidens treading the curious 
mazes of the Hora Tanz. So subtle 
is the spell that one wIki is under its 
influence feels a contempt I'm' the tame 
sensations of more thoroughly civilized 
Western Europe. The mystery, the 
voluptuousness, the dreaminess of the 
Orient seize on him and claim him for 
their own. 

Presently the music dies away; the 
clear, piercing tones of the youngest of 
the singers stop shortly just as they are 
taking a flight in mid-air. The calm 
after this melody is almost startling. 
Twilight is coming rapidly. I sit and 
muse for an hour; the charm holds long 
and well. At last I look up and see the 
gypsy musicians stretched upon their 
hacks, with their dusky faces turned 
toward the veiled sky. They are fast 
asleep, and unless the proprietor turns 
them out of the garden they will remain 
so until morning. They seem to have 
exhaled all their strength in their song, 
When they wake they will wander to the 
nearest stream, throw aside (heir ex- 
tremely scanty garments, and plunge and 
lie in uncouth positions in the muddy 
flood, as their friend the water-buffalo 
does. After this simple toilet they will 
tramp before the sun is hot, breakfaston 
a crust and a fragment of old cheese. 
aud sing again wherever they are per- 
mitted so to do. 

The Roumanian common folk have no 
very definite ideas of amusement and 
recreation as compared with those of va- 
rious other nations. There is a certain 
amount of grace and a rude rhythm in 
the Hora, — the dance which the peas- 
ants indulge in at night in rustic caba- 
rets, or on festal days in the towns, — 
butthere is not much merriment in it. The 



men and women both act as if they were 
not sorry when the dance is over and 
they can relapse into their normal condi- 
tion of siouchiness. Sometimes one 
chances upon a downright merry com- 
pany; but it is the exception. I went 
one afternoon to a fair in the outskirts 
of Bucharest, having been informed thai 
il would be a gay spectacle and could 
only be seen once a year. After infi- 




nite difficulties in finding the place indi- 
cated, all that I discovered was a series 
of wooden booths, in which languid and 
sallow women, none of whom were emi- 
nent for beauty or smartness of attire, 
weii' selling clot lis. prin ted handkerchiefs, 
carpets woven by the industrious wives 
of villagers near the capital, and articles 
of fantasy imported from the Palais 
Royal, in Paris. There were feu buyers, 
and the sellers appeared more anxious to 
forget the dull September heat in sleep 
than to dispose of their wares. 1 fancied 



732 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

thai the war and its sorrows (for the famous, when an indiscreet fellow-coun- 

Roumanians had then just crossed the tryman or a pushing diplomat tool* 

Danube to join the Russians in the siege advantage of his apparent good-nature 

of Plevna) had deadened the customaiy to be rather daring. Prince Gortscha- 

gavi'tv ; but friends in Bucharest assured koff showed his age. He walked rather 

me that "it was as lively as usual." feebly, and generally appeared on the 

The terrible extremes of the Roumanian street at Bucharest supported cm the 

climate keep the people from that dis- arm of some one who was young and 

play of vivacity which one expects of the strong. His temper was cheerful in a 

southern temperament. They bake in surprising degree ; nothing seemed to as- 

summer, and they freeze in winter, tonish him. The scries of alarming 

They love music, and through all the rumors which came to him from beyond 

pleasant months they crowd the gardens, the Danube, after General Gonrko's re- 

where regimental bands play, and singers turn from his impetuous raid across the 

retail the latest fragments of opera Balkans, were enough to try the nerves 

bouffe. " Rasca's " and the ■• Swiss of fresher and more vigorous men than 

Union" — little parks laid out in the the aged premier; but his cheerfulness 

Austrian fashion, with restaurants am! was always remarked just at moments 

beer-fountains attached — possess open- which seemed gloomiest toother friends 

air theatres. That year the various of the Russian cause. In his relations 

entertainments for the purpose of gain- with the Roumanian authorities — rela- 

ing funds for the hospitals brought all tions naturally of extreme delicacy, 

Bucharest to " Rasca's." because anything like pressure on the 

The pretty Princess Elizabeth, with officials of the tiny State was far from 

the ladies of her court and hundreds of his thoughts, and firmness might at any 

exquisitelv beautiful young girls, — beau- moment be construed by the susceptible 

ti ful, alas ! only to fade ere their worn- people into arbitrary demand, — he cay,. 

,,nli 1 has begun, — wandered in the proof of a gentle consideration which 

shady aisles with scenes of brilliantly made him both respected anil loved. It 
uniformed Russian dukes, princes, and is to be feared that General Ignatieff did 
barons. All the dignitaries of Bucha- not give the Roumanians the same treat- 
rest, from the minister of foreign affairs ment. If the rumors be true he was 
to the prefect of police, were to be seen not mealy-mouthed when he arrived 
in an evening's promenade. The music in Bucharest to ask for the recession of 
on such occasions was exceptionally Bessarabia to Russia, and hinted that 
good; the acting and singing execrable, they would be wiser to give it in ex- 
— a legacy of histrionic horrors, from the change for something else than to see it 
slums of Paris, St. Petersburg, Moscow, taken violently from them. There is no 
and Odessa, having beeu forced upon the denying the fact that the Roumanians 
unfortunate citizens of Bucharest. Yen- were from time to time rather preten- 
erable Prince Gortschakoff did not hesi- tions in their relations to the Russians: 
tate to exhibit himself in this garden and that some of their requests were de- 
froni time to time, to laugh with the nied simply because it would have been 
brightest of the maidens, and to utter impossible to grant them. At one time 
those singularly non-committal answers it seemed as if they delighted to place 
to "leading questions " for which he is obstacles in the way of the Russians: 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD CALM. 



F33 



but they soon began to work in unison 
with their Northern friends when they 
learned that nothing' less than the demoli- 
tion of the Turkish power in Europe was 
contemplated. 

A Roumanian house is a perfect laby- 
rinth of stair-ways, small and large, 
lighted anduulighted ; of balconies over- 
hanging' other houses ; and of long pas- 
sages open at both ends. At night the 
servants, men and women, sleep on the 
floor on these balconies and in the cor- 
ridors, and the traveller entering after 
midnight for the first time oue of the 
populous mansions of Bucharest might 
readily fancy that the way to his 
bedroom was strewn with corpses. He 
would have to step over the cook, who, 
with a single blanket thrown about ber 
portly form, would perhaps be dream- 
ing and murmuring a voluble Wallachian 
prayer ; to steer cautiously around the 
maid-of-all-work, on whose olive-colored 
face, framed in a night of untidy locks, 
the moon might be easting its dangerous 
beams; and, escaping this Scylla, he 
would confront the C'harybdis of the 
serving-man, who wears a long knife in 
his belt, and whose temper is bad when 
he awakes in a fright. Awaking before 
dawn one morning at Ploiesci, I heard a 
strange rustling sound on my balcony, 
and, peering from the bedroom window, 
saw the whole landing loaded with the 
ungainly forms of wagoners, who had 
come in during the night, and who slept, 
shrouded in their sheepskin mantles, as 
if they reposed upon couches of "roses 
besprinkled with dew." Others, who 
had found the balcony occupied, were 
snoring comfortably on heaps of soiled 
straw in the very centre of the barn-yard, 
as the dirty enclosure known as the 
"court "of the hotel would have been 
called in America, and were not likely 
to waken until the fowls hopped over 



them and the inquisitive pig of the 
locality rooted them out. But this was 
no more remarkable than the strange 
nest in which a whole Bulgarian family, 
my hosts in Tirnova, slept nightly. It 
was a species of little fortress, con- 
structed of carpets, cushions, and the 
garments of the father, mother, statu- 
esque daughter, and " small brother." 
who were all ensconced there; and il 
was in the entrance-way, so that no one 
could go on! at early morning without 
stepping over, and sometimes unwarily 
upon, tin; unconscious sleepers. 

A mystery, which must foreverremain 
unexplained, is the magical manner in 
which the man-servant, who is usually 
dressed in white tunic and trousers, and 
who in tlic day appears clean and well 
clothed, manages to keep up appear- 
ances after sleeping and grovelling every 
night in these same garments on the 
dusty floor. If is wonderful, too. that 
one does not hear them complain of 
colds, of rheumatism, or of fever. In 
winter they inutile themselves in sheep- 
skin or in thick blankets made in the 
mountain hamlets and sold for a trifle. 

There are numerous evidences of for- 
mer Turkish domination to be seen in 
Bucharest, — perhaps none more striking 
than the servile submission of the masses 
to any small authority, whether it lie 
employed in an offensively arbitrary 
manner or within decent limits. The 
people, although living under a consti- 
tution wonderfully liberal for Europe, 
still show that they have once been sub- 
jected to the rule of a country whose 
only law is the sword. I was amazed, 
on the occasion of the arrival of Czar 
Alexander in Bucharest, to see the gen- 
darmes of the city driving peasants out 
of the way of the procession with good, 
stinging blows from their whips or with 
their hands. The fellows thus roughly 



7.", 1 



HUROl'E L\ STORM AND CALM. 



treated merely shrank away, lookiug re- 
proachfully at their tormentors. 

Turkish architecture peeps out from 
street-corners in the Roumanian capital. 
The peddlers of fruit and vegetables carry 
their wares suspended from the long, 
ungainly, ami inconvenient yoke which 
inie sees everywhere in Turkey; and 
M>ine of the must palatal ile of Mussulman 
dishes hold their place still against the 
innovations of French ami Austrian 
cookery. Probably Romania Libera. 
as her citizens now like to call the liber- 
ated St: te, will endeavor hereafter to 

dispense with everything which reminds 
it of < Mtomaii rule and < Ismanli tyranny. 
I do not think that the Roumanians of 
the present generation feel any of that 
intense hatred of the Turk felt by the 

Servians, hut they fully recognize his 
unfitness for contact with modern civil- 
ization, and are glad that he is to lie 
banished from the countries which he 
refuses to improve. 

A funeral in Roumania is somewhat 
startling to him who sees it for the first 
time. The dead are borne through the 
streets, lying uncotliued, in a hearse 
whose class sides permit every "lie to 
see the last of poor mortality. If it be 
a man he is di'essed in his finest clothes ; 
if a woman — and especially if a young 
one — she is robed in white, and gar- 
hinds of flowers, natural and artificial, 
crown her tresses or repose upon her 
bosom. Priests bearing the sacred 
emblems ami clad in robes such as they 
wear when officiating at the altar pre- 
cede the mourning friends, many of 
whom follow on foot. There is some- 
thing ghastly and revolting in this 
spectacle of the dead carried thus 
through the crowded streets. Wher- 
ever a procession passes all vehicles 
not connected with it stop, and the 
drivers reverently cross themselves. 



Slow and solemn dirges are sometimes 
the accompaniment of these funeral 
parlies, bands or portions of bands 
according their services. There is a 
wonderful wealth of affection in the im- 
pulsive Roumanian character, — an in- 
tense love for home, family, and friends ; 
and grief in affliction is violent, un- 
reasoning, often alarmingly despairing. 

A mighty civ of anguish went up 
from the stricken little country when at 
least a fourth of the brave army of 
Roumania was slaughtered in front 
of Plevna, ami for a time it seemed as 
if the stay-at-home relatives would fairly 
revolt unless the government ordered 
the survivors to return across the Dan- 
ube and risk themselves no more. ISut 
this unreasonable freak of temper was 
fortunately of short duration. 

Roumania's history has been stormy 
and full of striking incidents. The 
country which is properly Roumania 

to-day was the home of the ancient 

Dacians, who were of Thraciau origin, 

and bole a marked resemblance to the 
Gauls. Trajan came with his terrible 
legions, and the Dacians succumbed, 
and were swept like chaff before the 
valorous Romans, who were Hushed with 
victory and a thirst for new conquests. 
The Dacians had peopled the sections 
now known as Moldavia, Wallachia, 
the Banat, Transylvania, the Bukovina 
and Bessarabia ; and as they disap- 
peared their places were taken by the 
colonists whom Trajan summoned from 
Italy and Spain. These colonists were 
the ancestors of the people who have 
finally become the Roumanian race. 
For a century or two the new province 
enjoyed such prosperity that the chroni- 
clers of the time speak of it as Dacia 
Felix. Then came the invading Goth, 
who drove out or frightened into re- 
moval large numbers of the colonists. 



EUROPE IX STORM AM' CALM. 



735 



But the majority of them remained, liv- 
ing among the Goths, hut not mingling 
with them, until still other invaders 
came aud dispersed both Goth and 
Daco-Komau. The latter took to tin- 
mountain regions, and in the great re- 
cesses of the Carpathians nourished iuto 
vigor a national life which was des- 
tined to have numerous reverses, but to 
support them all with hardihood. Tow- 
ards the latter half of the thirteenth 
century the real Roumanians, who had 
of course taken something of the Dacian 
character from intermarriage, came down 
to the plains and began to assert them- 
selves. Under the command of two 
chiefs, Rodolph the Black and Uragoch. 
they established the principalities of 
Wallachia and Moldavia. This, by 
Roumanian historians, is always spoken 
of as " the descent," and is their start- 
ing-point. Wallachia was doomed to 
possess an independent existence but a 
short time: in 1393 the Turk came in, 
and the principality placed itself under 
the "protection" of the Porte. The 
Ottomans gradually strengthened their 
influence until it became tyrannical rule 
but not before there had been many 
splendid revolts. In those wild days 
uprose " Vlad the Devil," he who 
scourged the Turks and at one time im- 
paled twenty-live thousand Turkish pris- 
oners. 

In 1511 Moldavia capitulated to the 
Turks. Her people had been able to 
resist for a much longer time than the 
Wallachians because of their mountain 
fastnesses ; but the fatal day came for 
them also. The history of the two sis- 
ter principalities for the next three 
centuries aud a half may be divided iuto 
three periods — the first that during 
which, although under Ottoman suze- 
rainty, they were governed by native 
princes; the second the " Fanariote 



epoch," from 1716 to 1822, in which 
they were goverened by foreign rulers 
named and maintained in power by the 
Porte ; and the third and present that 
which is sometimes called the " Rou- 
manian Renaissance," denoted by the re- 
turn to native rule, by the recognition 
of the rights of the country by the great 
European powers, and at last by the 
declaration of independence of 1877. 
It is noteworthy that all the countries 
originally peopled by the colonist ances- 
tors of the Roumanians now have in 
thrni large numbers of people speaking 
the Roumanian tongue ; and if King 
Charles could get a slice of Hungary, a 
good bit of Austria, and could have kept 
the Bessarabia deeded to Roumania at 
the time of the humiliation of Russia by 
the powers, but which she was compelled 
to give back as the price of her liberties 
to the great Northern power, he would 
find himself ruling over more than ten 
millions of subjects. 

It is odd that these Danubian folk. 
who have borrowed so much from the 
French, did not think it worth while, by 
some clause in their constitution, to 
trammel the press and the spoken word. 
They did not, and the result is that 
King Charles knows exactly what the 
people think of him whenever he under- 
takes a measure likely to be unpopular. 
No editor or speaker feels called upon 
to mince his phrases in discussing the 
inmates of the palace, the ministers, the 
judges, or the general. There is a 
" Red " party in the country, an 1 it has 
its say as often as it chooses, an 1 some- 
times has power in its hands. King 
Charles came to the throne at the 
close of a very excited and dangerous 
period in Roumanian affairs. Naturally 
enough there had been a revolution at 
Bucharest in 1818, when the great demo- 
cratic wind swept over Europe and 



m 



EVROPE TN STORM AND CALM. 



stirred even the hiuds on the far-stretch- 
ing plains by tlie Danube to a sense of 
their political degradation. A liberal 
constitution was proclaimed, and the 
national party daily grew strong and 
courageous. But (he Turks were not 
inclined to see their rule shaken off, and 
they pushed Omar Pacha with a large 
army to the banks of the Danube, de- 
posed the rulers who had succeeded to 
the short-lived '"provisional govern- 
ment" of revolution, and presently 
occupied the two principalities con- 
jointly with the Russians. After the 
various foreign occupations of the 
troublous times preceding, during, and 
at the close of the Crimean war. Rou- 
mania had the satisfaction of seeing its 
historic rights recognized, and of finding 
its privileges placed under the collective 
guarantee of the great powers. In 
1861 the temporary union of Moldavia 
and Wallachia was proclaimed at Bu- 
charest. Three years later there was a 
coup d'Etat. The reigning prince dis- 
solved the National Assembly and sub- 
mitted a new project of law to the 
people. This prince was a Colonel 

Couza, who was elected in 1859. He 
abdicated in 1866, after what may be 
fairly considered a successful reign, and 
in April of that year Prince Charles 

came in. with the shadow of the already 

menacing power of Germany behind 
him. lie was no sooner firmly seated 
on the throne than the present constitu- 
tion was proclaimed, and the union of 
Wallachia and Moldavia was confirmed, 
recognized, and guaranteed by Europe. 
Roumania was thus created ; it re- 
mained for her only to emancipate her- 
self from the hateful suzerainty of the 
Porte, to which greedy government she 
was compelled to pay a million francs 
of tribute money yearly. Austria. 
France, Great Britain, Italy, Prussia, 



Turkey, and Russia were the nations 
recognizing and welcoming Roumania to 
the world's family. 

In a previous chapter I have spoken 
of the national representation. The 
election of senators by two colleges 
composed exclusively of persons having 
large fortunes is perhaps open to 
criticism ; and it might have been as 
well to have given universal suffrage in 
its unadulterated form to the whole 
people, instead of compelling those who 
only pay small taxes to be content with 
inferior facilities for expressing their 
choice. The King is of course invio- 
late ; the eight ministers are responsible 
to the country; and, judging from the 
very free criticisms which 1 heard made 
upon their most innocent actions, each 
of them earns his salary, which is twelve 
thousand francs (twenty-four hundred 
dollars) yearly. All Roumania is di- 
vided into thirty-three judicial districts. 

presided over by prefects, and these 
districts are subdivided into one hun- 
dred and sixty-four wards, which in turn 
are partitioned into two thousand and 
eighty parishes. 

King Charles, a German of the best 
tvpc, • — brave, cultured, and sympa- 
thetic, — good-humoredly studied the 
Roumanian language, and finally be- 
came master of it. This flattered his 
new subjects, to whom he has attached 
himself in many other ways. In 1869 
he married the present queen, Eliza- 
beth, of German birth; and she also 
had the talent to make herself beloved. 
She has adopted the national costume 
— which, by the way. is exceedingly 
beautiful — as her dress on state occa- 
sions, groups the beauty and fashion 
of the land around her, has given a 
healthy check to tin' absenteeism which 

was fast making a second Ireland of 
Roumania; and in the terrible days of 



EUJiOPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



737 



1877, when the army was fighting the 
Turks, she worked unweariedly in the 
hospitals, inspiring all other ladies bj 
her example. 

The palace in which King Charles 
resides in winter is a large mansion, 
almost wholly devoid of exterior orna- 
ment. When the Ban Constantino 
Golesco was building it, at the begin- 
ning of this century, his father came ti> 
examine it, and remarked, " My son, 
you are foolish to build such enormous 
rooms: you can never light them.'' 
" Father," answered Constantine, who 
foresaw many other things besides the 
introduction of gas into Roumania, " I 
am building' for the future." 

Golesco was a noble patriot, and 
really laid the foundations of the " Rou- 
manian Renaissance." The national in- 
dependence was born and nourished in 
this sombre old palace. Cotroceni, the 
summer residence of royalty, was once a 
monastery. It is more than two cen- 
turies old, and owes its origin to the 
following circumstances: Two powerful 
families, the Cantacuzenes and the 
Ghikas, were at deadly enmity, and 
Cherban Cantacuzene, tracked by his 
enemies through the forests which in 
old days covered the hills around Bucha- 
rest, built a monastery on the spot where 
he had successfully hidden until a truce 
was declared. Although the old pile has 
been restored it is still in a dilapidated 
condition, and the King must have an 
easily contented mind to accept it as an 
agreeable summer home. lb' can, if he 
pleases, go and dream away the hottest 
of the merciless summer days in the 
lovely valley where stand the ruins of 
Tirgoviste, the ancient capital of Walla- 
chia, deserted more than a hundred and 
fifty years ago for less picturesque and 
more unhealthy Bucharest. Tirgoviste 
is one of the loveliest spots on earth, and 



the wrecks of noble edifices scattered 
along the slopes and in the glens prove 
that there were other giant builders be- 
sides Manol the Unlucky in the elder 
days. In the ancient metropolitan 
Church of Tirgoviste is the tomb of 
Bishop Stephen, the first man who 
printed books in the Roumanian lan- 
guage; and there also are the tombs of 
the famous Cantacuzene family. The 
leaden roof of the church was melted up 
for bullets in 1821, and was replaced by 
one made of iron. King Charles can 
reach this old and moss-grown town by 
a railway ride of about fifty English 
miles from Bucharest to Gai'coci, and a 
six hour's journey thence along pretty 
country roads bordered with villages, 
on the roofs of whose houses the eternal 
stork clatters and struts. To-day Tir- 
goviste has only five thousand inhabi- 
tants; but there are evidences thai it was 
once very populous. No chronicler has 
given an exact account of its origin : 
tradition and history are at odds on this 
point; but it seems certain that Mir/ca 
the Elder, who is a mighty figure in the 
annals ofWallachia ami who became the 
ruler of that province towards the close 
of the fourteenth century, transferred the 
seat of government from ('mica Argesu. 
where Manol and his companions had 
long before begun the great cathedral, to 
Tirgoviste. Mirzea was a notable war- 
rior, but he does not seem to have pre- 
vented an incursion of barbarians which 
nearly cost the new town its existence. 
In the sixteenth century Michael the 
Brave fought a terrible battle with the 
Turks on the plain near the town, and 
defeated the enemy. A century later a 
Roumanian prince massacred all Turks 
found in the neighborhood, and a year 
after this occurrence the Mussulmans 
committed such terrible reprisals that 
Tirsroviste was decimated. At the end 



i"" s EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

of the seventeenth century one of the personage than Rodolph the Black, chief 

Cantacuzcnes constructed a superb of the Wallachians at the time of the 

castle near the town. It is now only a famous " descent " from the mountains, 

confused mass of ruined subterraneous Roumania boasts another ancient castle, 

passages, chaotic walls, and massive por- "Campii Lungii," at the foot of the 

tals ; lnii the shepherds in the valley Carpathians on a plain traversed by the 

point up to it, and with bated breath tell Dimbovitza river, on its winding way to 

the stranger that it is the ensile of the Bucharest. Here once stood a noble 

ancient voivodas, and that it is haunted cathedra] several centuries old, but it 

by the spirits of the departed. At Tir- was thrown down by an earthquake in 

goviste there are one or two important 1819, and has been replaced by one of 

military establishments, and an arsenal the most ordinary products of the modern 

has been improvised in an old monastery architect's imagination. 
said to have been founded by nu less a 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



?39 



( IIAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR. 



The Early Roumanians. — The Language. — Greek Plays. — Agriculture. — The Minor Towns of 
Roumania. — Jassv. — On the Bessarabian Frontier. — Galatz. — National Manners.— Roumanian 
Monasteries. 



I~) ESPECT for the genius of the early 
*> Roumanians increases at each step 
which one takes among the ruins of their 
castles and churches, monasteries and 
fortresses. There is no builder of the 
race to-day who could accomplish any 
of the works that seem to have been 
done with ease in the olden time. The 
peasant puzzles his ilull brain to con- 
struct a flimsy cottage with thatched 
roof and wattled sides, — a trap which 
would afford but small shelter in a more 
uncertain climate. Colossal men of 
great deeds were the fathers, but there 

is almost no r rd of (hem. No written 

account in Roumanian can befoundwilh 
an earlier date than the last half of the 
seventeenth century. After that time 
there was a decadence of the small 
literary acquirements of the struggling 
nation. In the first quarter of the 
preseni century the Roumanian could 
scarcely claim the dignity of a written 
language. Gradually men of talent awoke 
to the necessity of a great effort for a 
literary revival. The language to-day 
has not a positively settled orthography : 
one journalist spells a disputed word in 
one manner, while his rival insists upon 
another; thus much confusion arises 
and many comical blunders ensue. A 
newly made ■• Academy" is hard at work 
upon a grammar and a dictionary, and 
romances, poems, and historical works 
have been published, but arc read by 
only a very few persons. In the old 
book-stalls in Bucharest I found editions 



of works by Roumanian authors printed 
in the Slavic language. It is worthy of 
remark that in Roumania, as in Greece, 
the literary renaissance preceded the 
political revival and the declaration of 
independence. A young Roumanian ■ — ■ 
whose mastery of the English language 
is so perfect that it seems almost im- 
possible to believe that he lias never 
been either in England or America — ■ 
has made a translation of Hamlet into 
his native tongue, and the pretty lan- 
guage seems quite as well adapted as 
Italian for expressing the majestic verse 
and grandiose sentiment of the monarch 
of poets. 

The Roumanian i> an agreeable lan- 
guage, but it is passing curious. When 
I first heard it spoken it seemed to 
me that I was listening to French or 
Spanish. I hearkened intently, expect- 
ing to understand ; but 1 did not gather 
a single idea. It was vexatious, for it 
sounded familiar. Just as I was begin- 
ning to feel certain of the meaning of 
the speaker, around some dubious cor- 
ner, at a breakneck pace, dashed the 
reckless sentences and were beyond my 

reach. People arc excessively voluble 
in Roumania (especially when cursing 
their horses) ; but a stranger with a good 
knowledge of Latin and cither Italian 
or French could learn the language in 
a few months. It is derived directly 
from the rustic Latin which Trajan's 
colonists spoke, but mingled of course 
with thousands of words and phrases 



740 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

borrowed from the dialects of the peo- may be considered permanent, although 

pit's who inhabited the country when the possibly many of the prominent Greek 

conquering Romans came. The Latin citizens of Bucharesl would not consent 

which the colonists brought into these to this proposition. The Greek society 

provinces was the Latin of the centre of the principality is highly cultured, 

and north of Italy and the neighboring refined, and well-to-do. [ attended sev- 

coun tries, which had already undergone eral representations of Greek plays in 

considerable modification. There were Bucharest. One of them, which was 

great uumbers of people from the sec- given before a very large audience, — in 

ti< >ns now known as Spain and Portugal, which, by the way, I did not observe a 

and (here were also Gauls among these single Russian soldier or officer, — was a 

colonists ; so that it, is not astonishing that spirited drama representing the uprising 

words clearly of Spanish or Gallic origin of the Greeks against their oppressors 

arc f id side by side to-day with words and foreshadowing the call to arms for 

of indisputable Peninsular origin. Da- the succor of those Creeks in Thes- 
ci.ui words are still found, and the saly and Crete still under the barbarous 
language is deeply indebted both iodic domination of the Turk. There arc ten 
Slavic and the Greek tongues. The thousand Greeks in Roumania, and they 
Slavic language almost displaced the havebeenof substantialserviceinpromot- 
Roumanian at the time of the great ing insurrection in the provinces of Tur- 
schisin in the fifteenth century. The key in Europe. Manv a hai - d blow struck 
Moldavians were so indignant at the for freedom has been rendered possible 
decision of the Council of Florence that by their generous gifts of money. Vol- 
they deposed their bishop, rejected the nines in Greek are occasionally printed 
Latin characters which they had hither- in Roumania, and theatre programmes 
to used in all their printed 1 ks, and and newspapers, in the prettiest of (ire- 
adopted the Slavic letters as well as cian type, arc seen on all the cafe tallies. 
liturgy. It is well that the Roman al- King Charles is earnest in endeavors 
phabet was resumed at a later day, and to promote the growth of literature, 
it is to be hoped that some time the and offered a handsome prize for the 
Russians will be willing to dispense best history of the participation of 
with their eccentric letters, which pro- Roumania in the war of 1877. The lan- 
duce such a confusing effect on the mind guage is well adapted to poetical expres- 
of him who sees them for the fust time, sion : it. is graceful, flexible, and lends 
The blindest German type is as nothing itself readily to the conceits of metaphor 
besides these Muscovite monstrosities, and the rhythmical fancies so indispensa- 
Tbc Slavic was long the official language ble to true poetry. There is something 
in Roumanian land. Greek had its of the wildness and the weirdness of the 
day under the Fanariots at the end of great plains on which it is spoken in its 
theseventeenthcentury ; and so rapid was form. In objurgation and invective it is 
the progress of its incursion that, in less so wonderfully elastic that, the stage- 
than a century it had invaded the court, drivers of the Pacific coast and of Texas 
the capital, the schools, the legal triliu- would retire from the field in despair 
nals. and the whole administration. The after having once beard a Wallachian 
reaction began with this century, and teamster when thoroughly angry with his 
the triumph of the Roumanian speech horses. The utter whimsicality of the 



EUROVE IN STORM AND CALM. 



741 



expressions used, and with which one 
becomes familiar in travelling day after 
da} - through the country, was some- 
times so overwhelming that my compan- 
ions and I were compelled to roar with 
laughter when we should have reproved 
our drivel' for want of respect both for 
us and his beasts. 

Seven hundred thousand families live 
by agriculture in Roumania, and all the 
others who labor are engaged in trade, 
for manufactures make no progress. No 
native capitalist will risk competition 
with Austria, England, Russia, and 
France. It' the government would but 
intimate to the three hundred thousand 
gypsies in the principality that they 
must work or lie treated as vagabonds 
are served in other countries, production 
might be remarkably increased. The 
u\psy has mechanical talent, and would 
make a good operative. But the Rou- 
manians say that he would break his 
heart if obliged to labor for a certain 
number of hours daily ; that lie would 
forget his task, and wander away in the 
track of any sunbeam without the slight- 
est idea that he was doing anything 
wrong. About three-fifths of the enor- 
mous amount of cereals produced in the 
country are consumed at home ; the rest 
is exported to neighboring countries. A 
bad season for crops and a pestilence 
among the cattle would place hundreds 
of thousands of Roumanians in danger 
of starvation. The country must have 
manufactures before it can attain to any- 
thing like solid prosperity. 

It is strange that a land where manu- 
facturing is almost unknown should have 
a large number of populous towns. 
Galatz, on the Danube, has eighty thou- 
sand inhabitants ; Jassy, which may fairly 
be considered the chief city of Upper 
Roumania (old Moldavia), has ninety 
thousand. Although my impressions of 



Jassy are somewhat less enthusiastic 
than they would have been had not abso- 
lutely pouring showers of rain partially 
damped them, I left the old metropolis 
of the ancient Dacians convinced that its 
people were enterprising, liberal, and 
likely to have an important commercial 
future. The principal streets are hand- 
somely paved with asphalt, laid down 
as well as in Paris ; here and there I 
spied a mansion of which Fifth Avenue 
or Beacon street might be proud; and 
the public buildings were models of so- 
lidity and comfort. The hotels do not 
merit the same compliment. I thought 
the court-yard of the inn at Jassy the 
most uninviting place 1 had ever entered 
when I came into it one rainy afternoon : 
the mud was almost knee-deep; the 
horses floundered through it, snorting 
angrily ; some half-broken mvjlks, clad 
in greasy fur coats, were harnessing vi- 
cious-looking beasts, putting the high 

w len collars, decorated with bells, on 

them. I began to fancy that I had 
made a mistake in my reckoning and had 
slipped over tin- Russian frontier. As I 
tramped across the wooden gallery which 
ran around the exterior of the hotel's 
second story, servants in blue flowing 
trousers tucked into enormous boots, 
in red or green blouses tied at. the throat 
with gayly colored cords, and with bushy 
hair hanging low down upon their fore- 
heads, rose from their seats before their 
masters' doors and stood bowing obse- 
quiously until I had passed. It seemed 
like a 'leaf out of one of Tourgucneff's 
transcripts of Russian life. In the vast 
bedroom offered me stood a mighty 
porcelain stove, — a veritable monument, 
extending to the ceiling, and provided 
with such a labyrinth of whitewashed 
pipes that it resembled an organ rathel 
than a heating apparatus. In the din- 
ing-room the landlord seemed astonished 



742 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

because the small glass of cordial with proud front in Jassy. The inhabitants 

which the Russians usually begin a meal tell you with much emphasis that it is 

was refused. He commented en the re- " under the invocation of St. Gregory, 

I'usal, seemed to think that it argued a St. Chrysostom, and St. John," and 

lack of good sense, and presently asked swell with enthusiasm as they point to 

me if I were an Austrian. its light and graceful towers, the ara- 

It is not astonishing that Jassy has a besques on the gigantic walls, ami the' 

Russian imprint, for it is hut a short silver lamps in the three long and sombre 

distance from the frontier of the great naves, lighting but faintly the portrait 

northern empire, and has been occupied of the church's founder, "Basil the 

many times by the troops of the Czars. Wolf," whose very history most of the 

As in the war of 1*77 it was the first citizens have never heard, hut who, they 

place into which a force was thrown vaguely say, " was a great man and had 

after the various passages of the Prilth, seventeen children." The Three Ilie- 

from the beginning of the eighteenth rarchs and St. Nicholas — a monastery 

century to the middle of the nineteenth, built in 1471 by Stephen the Great — are 

At the time of my spring visit Russian the chief w lers of Jassy. Princes 

officers were already there, buying forage and their retainers have moved to Bucha- 
for the arms* soon to arrive. A French rest, and their mansions, dignified with 
writer recounts that on one occasion a the title of "palaces," have fallen into 
Muscovite General (in times past, he it the hands of the Jews. The Hebrew 
understood) learned that there were not thrives at Jassy. 1 had the honor of 
cattle enough to draw the transport being presented to the principal banker 
wagons from Jassy on towards the Dan- of that persuasion in the town, and sat 
uhe. •■Well, then, we must hitch up with him in his office on Sunday to see 
the hoyards" (the Roumanian aristoc- him attend to business. Long-bearded 
racy), said this lively General. The men. clad in skull-caps and gabardines. 
Prince de Ligne, in his correspondence hovered about, seeking his presence 
from Jassy, in 17.ss, tells a good many eagerly, and a group of them engaged 
stories which do not reflect credit on the in conversation ornamented and em- 
conduct of the Russians. Perhaps a phasized by stately gestures was unlike 
certain rude northern impatience of the anything to he seen in western Europe. 
slow, shiftless character of the Rouina- Poor Jews and indescribably filthy and 
nian peasantry was the cause of some rheumatic gypsy beggars abounded, and 
severe Russian measures. made the air ring with their appeals for 

Jassv, like Bucharest, is very rich in alms. The melancholy sect heretofore 

churches and in relics. Roumania is alluded to as self-mutilators flourishes 

everywhere provided with about ten in this town ami possesses a church. 

times as many churches as the people These people were driven out of Russia, 

can use. The forms of religion in all but have never been refused permission 

sections of the country seem to promote to remain in Roumania or in Bulgaria, 

the growth of innumerable monasteries, in which latter country there are many, 

shrines, cathedrals, and minor houses Wretched as the environs of Jassy 

of worship. The "Three Hierarchs," appear when soaked with rain, when the 

the only worthy rival of the massive and cottages seem about to float away 

exquisite cathedral of Argesu, rears its through the tall grass, and when the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



743 



philosophical stork, calmly perched on 
one leg, seems to have decided, after 
due survey, that it is about time to go 
somewhere else, — in summer these same 
fields are ravishingly beautiful. The 
hills are covered with flowers, the plains 
with abundant crops. Riding along the 
roads leading to Bucharest, or out toward 
the Austrian Bukovina, one comes even- 
few minutes upon some rustic hind who 
is in dress and figure almost the exact 
counterpart of the captive warriors to be 
seen on the bas-reliefs of the famous 
Trajan Column. The type lias changed 
little if any in twenty centuries. It 
seems impossible that such specimens of 
humanity as these blank-faced tillers 
should make the landscape blossom thus 
with plenty. But they do it, and if 
educated would accomplish far greater 
wonders. 

From .lassy a picturesque and little- 
frequented road leads to Bolgrad, a 
quaint town of ten thousand inhabitants, 
situated in that portion of Bessarabia 
ceded by a treaty to Russia, only to be 
re-ceded, by the Treaty of Paris, to Mol- 
davia, and to lie again handed over to 
Russia by King Charles of Roumania, 
in exchange for the Dobrudscha, which 
had been wrested from the Turks in 
Bulgaria. The population in this Bessa- 
rabian land, which Russia has so long 
coveted, is distinctly Roumanian. The 
men are rather more manly in bearing 
than their brethren of other sections; 
they have broad foreheads, frank eyes, 
long, coarse hair, dense black mustaches, 
well-turned limbs, and generally carry 
weapons. But they live in hideous little 
cabins, unfit for the habitations of cattle, 
banked with mud and furnished inside 
with the rudest articles of prime neces- 
sity. In winter, when the heavy snows 
cover the roadways so deeply that loco- 
motion is next to impossible, these 



worthies hibernate in their villages. 
They protect themselves from the cold 
by sheepskin coats and huge shaggy 
mantles. The women are dull, submis- 
sive, and rarely pretty. There are one 
hundred and forty thousand inhabitants 
in Bessarabia, and King Charles thought 
so much of them that he considered him- 
self a loser by taking the Dobrudscha, 
which gave him two hundred thousand 
subjects. 

Between Bucharest and Jassy, on or 
near the line of rail leading to the Rus- 
sian frontier, there arc many important 
and interesting towns, rendered doubly 
attractive of late by the fact that war 
has jusl swept through them or hovered 
near them. The land is rich with sou- 
venirs of other campaigns than those of 
Russians. The peasant now and then 
unearths some coin or bronze or brass 
ornament bearing the effigy of Alexan- 
der the Great, who once made an expe- 
dition into Dacia. On mountain slopes 
arc the traces of old cities whose his- 
tory no man knows, and excavations 
among the half-buried walls of the long- 
forgotten temples and palaces bring to 
light potteries, glass, bones of domestic 
animals, stone weapons, and bits of effi- 
gies in metal, so corroded that they can- 
not be distinguished. The earth is here 
a vast tomb of dead-and-gone civiliza- 
tions, wars, and conquests ; it is tranquil 
as the centuries roll on. awaiting the 
signal for another period of fruition. 
At the noted Barbosi — one of the first 
places to become celebrated in 1S77, 
because the Russians seized upon a 
bridge there in time to protect it against 
a descent meditated by the captains of 
Turkish monitors — are the remains of a 
vast Roman intrenched camp and for- 
tresses. The churches inGalatz and the 
ramparts in Braila are built of the mas- 
sive stones taken from the walls which 



744 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



the elder Romans piled up as memorials 
of their valor, and guarantees of their 
reward for it. Catacombs containing 
bas-reliefs, urns, statuettes, and inscrip- 
tions were also discovered at Barbosi 
during the last century. Galatz, near 
Barbosi, is renowned chiefly for possess- 
ing the tomb of Mazeppa and as an im- 
portant commercial port. The Greeks 
are quite as numerous and powerful 
there as in Bucharest, and in the first 
quarter of this century rose with great 
spirit several times against the Turks, 
on one occasion slaying hundreds before 
their wrath was appeased. The Mus- 
sulmans were not slow at reprisal. Mow 
many times has the water of the Danube 
been crimsoned with the blood of 
battle ! Vet the majestic river flows 
through lands which seem to have been 
intended for the home of eternal peace. 
Let us hope that with the new era of 
progress will come freedom from all 
barbaric struggles such as in time past 
have made Servia, Roumania, and Bul- 
garia a. veritable " dark and bloody 
ground " in Europe. 

Bucharest has a tine national museum, 
which has been greatly enriched within 
the last few years by the collections of 
antiquities unearthed by the delving 
peasants. At first the Walloons did not 
fancy these things worth preserving. 
The fanner broke up statues to use them 
for boundary stones, and the teamster 
who found a rusty coin while lighting 
his evening camp-fire spurned it away be- 
cause it was not bright and new, like the 
Ira and luii'ii — the Roumanian francs and 
centimes — of the present day. An 
eminent archaeologist, named Odobesco, 
who has written much on the subject of 
the tumuli scattered everywhere in Rou- 
mania, believes that a careful search 
would bring to light many articles be- 
longing to the Stone and Bronze Ages. 



In the eastern flanks of the Carpathians 
lie buried secrets which were unknown 
to Herodotus himself, and upon which 
we may some day stumble. If the 
newly emancipated principality is per- 
mitted to enjoy permanent peace im- 
portant discoveries will be made within 
its limits in the course of a few years. 
In addition to the treasures in the Bu- 
charest museum several princes and one 
or two wealthy private citizens have 
rich collections of coins, statues, and 
vases, which serve to illustrate the his- 
tory of the earliest years of the Christian 
era. 

In all the Roumanian townswhich rise 
above the dignity of villages there is a 
large class of persons who do nothing 
from year's end to year's end. Mow 
they exist is a puzzle past comprehen- 
sion. In Ploiesci, which was for some 
time the head-quarters of the Czar 
Alexander and the Grand Duke Nicholas 
at the beginning of the Russian campaign 
against Turkey, there were hundreds 
of families enjoying leisure, but without 
any visible means of support. The 
husbands sat all day in the cafis smok- 
ing cigarettes and discussing the situ- 
ation, or reclined on benches in their 
gardens indolently enjoying the soft, 
sprint' breezes. Their wives and 
daughters appeared to outdo their nat- 
ural protectors in laziness. Yet all 
were well dressed, and even made a 
certain pretension to style, affecting to 
sneer at the rough, homely ways of 
some of the northern folic who had 
come down to fight the Turk. The 
.lews controlled the trade. The Rou- 
manian felt himself too tine, evidently, 
to Sell linen coats at ten francs apiece 
and bottles of colored water labelled 
"Bordeaux" at the same price to the 
Russian new-comers. In Giurgevo the 
same lazy, listless 'lass was to be seen 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



74. r ) 



everywhere, and seemed too idle to move 
out of the way of the bombardment. 
At Simnitza, Master Nicolai, with whom 
for a short time I had the pleasure of 
residing, endeavored to explain his cir- 
cumstances. "The crops, you sec. 
bring in a little," he said; "the fowls 
a little more; once in a while I sella 
butt of wine ; and, Mou Dien ! one does 
not need much money after all." This 
was eminently true in Master Nieolai's 
case, for lie seemed to live upon air and 
cigarette smoke. 1 never saw him at 
table during my visit, and it is my firm 
belief that in a week he did not consume 
as much solid food as a full-grown Eng- 
lish or American lad would eat in a 
single day. 

Towns like Ploiesci, Giurgevo, Crai- 
ova, Slatina, all have a certain smart- 
ness, and take their tone from Bu- 
charest ; but there is no solid prosperity 
in them. Morals are rather looser than 
the best class of Roumanians would like 
to admit. Money is too powerful, and 
will buy almost anything. A little 
money will shake an obstacle to the 
completion of a contract, — will secure 
exceptional privilege and honor ; a great 
deal of money makes all opposition to 
one's wishes vanish as by magic. Ve- 
nality is not so marked in the peasantry 
as it is in the middle classes. Of the 
corruption of society in the principal 
towns much has been said and written. 
It is as bad as it can be ; but the Hun- 
garians and Austrians. who spend much 
of their time in criticising the Rouma- 
nians, are quite as faulty as the inhabi- 
tants of the little Kingdom. Divorce 
is easy and frequent throughout Rou- 
mauia. There is little or no violent ven- 
geance practised in eases of domestic 
infelicity. The, exterior of society is 
spotless ; and the stranger spending a 
few days among the people would fancy 



them absolutely undisturbed by any ir- 
regularities of conduct. King Charles 
and his wife have always given an ex- 
ample of the utmost devotion to the 
sacredness of the family tie. and as a 
natural consequence are universally 
loved and respected by the members of 
refined society in the state. 

Almost every Roumanian town, small 
and large, possesses innumerable gar- 
dens, which m summer make even the 
ordinary dwellings agreeable residences. 
In winter the wooden houses are not 
quite so pleasant, for the Wallach under- 
stands as poorly as the Italian how to 
warm himself, and he growls all through 
the severe cold season, which he con- 
siders as a kind of penance. With the 
cessation of the spring rains his serenity 
of temper returns. Each town has its 
gypsy quarter, and the types seen there 
are simply indescribable. Men and 
women of this class have extremely prim- 
itive ideas with regard to clothing, and 
appear absolutely devoid of shame. For 
four hundred and fifty years the Tsigane 
has been known in Roumania, and the 
race has made little or no improvement 
m that time. The gypsies still steal when 
they dare, be«' when they can, and work 
only when obliged. 

The country is as rich in monasteries as 
m churches. What a wonderful Held are 
these grand Carpathians for the painter, 
who as vet has left them unexplored ! The 
crags, crowned with turrets ami ramparts ; 
the immense forests, which extend from 
snow-capped summits to vales where the 
grass is alwaysgreen ; the paths winding 
along verges of awful precipices ; the 
tiny villages, where shepherds come to 
sleep at night, and where the only per- 
sons who have ever seen people from 
western Europe are the soldiers and the 
priests, who mayhap have travelled a 
little ; the exquisite sunsets filled with 



74(5 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



semi-tropica] splendors, which 11 1 and 

transfigure the vast, country side, — all are 
new and wonderful, and offer ten thou- 
sand charms to him who is weary of 
Switzerland and the Alps, the Scot- 
tish highlands, and the woods of Fontaine- 
bleau. Despite the rains which followed 
me when I threaded the paths in the 
neighborhood of superb old Niamtzo's 
fortress and monastery, only six hours' 
ride by diligence from a convenient point 
on the railway from Bucharest to Jassy, 
I returned enchanted with the beauties 
of the Carpathian range. I do not re- 
member in which of the novels of Ouida 
there is a description of this Roumanian 
mountain country and one of the monas- 
teries in an almost inaccessible nook ; but 
I know that in journeying about the moun- 
tains it seemed to me that she had not 
exaggerated, and that her rhapsody was 
full of profound truth. 

Niamtzo is the chief of Roumanian 
historical monasteries. Its bells rang to 
call the faithful monks to prayer a hun- 
dred years before Columbus discovered 
America, yet some of its massive walls 
are still in good condition. The savage 
grandeur of its site, in a spot among 
high mountains tipped with snow, with 
fir-trees standing round about it like sol- 
emn sentinels, is sufficiently impressive ; 
but the edifice is more striking than its 
surroundings. To-day it has two 
churches, ten hell-towers, and live or six 
hundred monks. These lead a laborious 
albeit rather irresponsible existence. 
The old fortress near it was elected in 
the thirteenth century, by a body of Teu- 
tons whom a Hungarian king had em- 
ployed to check the incursions of the 
Tartars, and hence the name of both 
fort and monastery, for Niamtzo, or 
Xt mi-.ii. in Roumanian means "German." 
After the Germans who built it had 
passed away, Niamtzo was the scene of 



many hi ly battles. Tradition informs 

us that Stephen the Great, unfortunate 
in battle with the Turks, fled toward the 
fortress, but that his mother Helen com- 
manded the gates to be shut in his face, 
crying out that unless he came home 
victor he was no son of hers. Where- 
upon this dutiful son recovered his pres- 
ence of mind, and, rallying his flying 
men, turned and inflicted upon the Turks 
a chastisement which the Osmanli nation 
remembers to this day. 

Niamtzo possesses various buildings 
of more or less modern construction — 
an insane asylum, and one or two cloth 
factories m which the monks labor. 
Not far from the old monastery is a 
famous convent for women, distinguished 
from similar institutions in Roman Cath- 
olic countries by the extreme freedom 
of the inmates. This convent of Agapia 
has contained as many as five hundred 
••nuns" at a time, all belonging to the 
upper ranks of society. None of these 
ladies considered themselves as bound 
to ghostly vows, and Agapia and other 

Convents became the centres of so much 

intrigue that the government was com- 
pelled some years since to place re- 
strictions upon them. The clergy aided 
the secular officials to reform many 
scandalous lapses from discipline in 
these establishments. Sojourn in the 
convent, once adopted, is for life, and 
many rich Roumanian families sacrifice 
one of their daughters that they may 
have more wealth for the child they love 
best. The revenues of both the monas- 
teries and con vents are enormous. Niamt- 
zo. which was at one time under the 
special protection of the emperor of 
Russia, disposes of nearly nine hundred 
thousand francs yearly, ami Agapia's in- 
come is one hundred and twenty thou- 
sand francs. There are many convents 
in the mountains near Niamtzo, and 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



747 



indeed there are few sections of Rournania 
in which these institutions do not exist. 

In a convent not far from Bucharest 
a consul, who was a guest for the after- 
noon, was somewhat surprised to hear 
a number of nuns constantly repeating 
for more than an hour a woman's name. 
At last his curiosity prompted him to 
ask the lady superior what was the 
reason of this repetition. 

"Oh," said she smiling, "it's only a 
jprivighiero." 



" And what is that? " 

"It is a prayer for the death of 
a certain person who has won the 
affections of a great dignitary away 
from his lawful wife. The privighiero 
is paid for by the wife, and is to 
be continued at short intervals for forty 
days." 

The consul did not dare to ask the 
lady if she thought the prayer would be 
answered. 



748 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE. 

With the Russians in Bulgaria. -On the Danube. -Simnitza. — The Extemporaneous Imperial Head- 
Quarters. -The Early Campaign in Bulgaria. Singing of the Russian Troops. — Sistova. — Bul- 
garian Men. The Fanners. M ra or the Russian Army < officers. — The Grand Duke Nicholas. 

— The Elder Skobeleff. — The Russian Emperor in the Field. 

A S I approached Simnitza just at teamsters, broad-hatted, gloomy, and 

-^J- dusk one evening in June. 1*77, dazed by the spectacle of the thousands 

I saw a. long line of fires blazing on tlic of strangers who had suddenly invaded 

hills beyond the Danube ami hailed their country ; Russian generals followed 

them with joy. They were the funeral by stall's wlmse uniforms had once 

pyres of Turkish oppression, the beacon been brilliant, but were now indescriba- 

lights of liberty and law in the East; blydusty and worn ; and genial, amiable 

they denoted the presence of the new Muscovite infantry-men trudging i liilo- 

crusaders, the sturdy Russians. sophically alone- the roads, hunting in 

At the foot of the little hill down which vain for food, for medicine, for water. 

my rude wagon was rattling a large camp for wine, — for everything. In those June 

was located. Lights gleamed from tiny days Simnitza was preeminently the 

tents. The clash of arms and the murmur place where nothing was to be hail at 

of thousands of voices were borne with any price. Food was quite out of the 

the stifling dust to my ears. For days I question. The army passing by brought 

hail lived in dust, had breathed it, had its cattle with it ; bread was unheard of ; 

drunk it in my tea, and eaten it with the soldier subsisted on the ration of 

my hard bread and harder Roumanian soup, with a huge round of beef, which 

cheese. I had slept in it in filthy khans, the regimental cooks served out to him 

in filthier villages, where half-grown daily. But the civilian ? For him there 

boys and giils ran about naked. I was was no food, unless he had brought it a 

coaled with dust. When I moved clouds hundred mill's, unless his servants could 

arose around me. When a Cossack' pa- cook it, and unless those servants could 

trol passed, spectral in the gathering go half a mile from town to procure the 

darkness, he left behind him a pillar of fuel with which to make the the. All 

dust which seemed to mount to the very this we learned within ten minutes after 

skies. Interminable wagon trains, drawn our arrival in Simnitza. 

by shaggy, ill-tempered Russian horses. There was a hotel — a vast, rambling 

wallowed in the wearisome highways structure, with long galleries out of 

which stretched for miles across the which chambers opined somewhat like 

treeless wastes. Artillery creaked cells in a penitentiary : but this was full. 

slowly forward. The shuffling landlord seemed to take 

As we drove into the diminutive town malicious pleasure in refusing all de- 

we found ourselves in the midst of a mauds. Threats, entreaties, money, were 

shouting, hustling crowd of Hebrew of no avail. Even the stable-yard was 

merchants crazy for gain ; Roumanian crowded with Russian wagons, and Cos- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



749 



sucks were lying about on the straw 
smoking, and singing quaint songs which 
stirred one's poetic sense curiously. A 
bath, clean clothes, something to cat. 
and a lew hours of repose would have 
enabled one to enter thoroughly into 
the spirit of the scene. But one might 
as well have asked for the moon or the 
chaste Pleiades or the soothing Orion. 

In sheer desperation I went with my 
companion, while the servants prose- 
cuted their search for lied and board, 
to the long plateau near the Danube 
shore. The moon had arisen, and en- 
abled us to see the great silent river 
flowing steadily and majestically past 
the islands and the steep banks oppo- 
site, as serene as if no great battle had 
ever been fought near it. A long line 
of gleams indicated the position of the 
bridge of boats established after the 
Turks had been driven from the hills 
of Sistova. Numerous correspondents 
of English and French newspapers who 
presently joined us said that on the Bul- 
garian bank abundant food and excel- 
lent wine were to be found. This was 
aggravation. We sighed for the prom- 
ised laud, spent the night in a wretched 
apology for a chamber infested by 
fleas and other small vermin, and awoke 
next morning uurefreshed. We then 
presented ourselves at the Imperial head- 
quarters. 

I.. .. large enclosure on a bluff near 
the Danube majesty and authority had 
pitched their tents, and directly oppo- 
site them were numerous ambulances, 
in which lay the brave fellows wounded 
in the attack on Sistova. Grand duke, 
high officer of justice, aud prince, gen- 
erals of division and aides-de-camp were 
lodged under canvas covers, beneath 
which the dust cruelly crept. By day 
the sun scorched the unhappy crusad- 
ers ; by night a cold wind blew from the 



river and chilled them. The Czar of all the 
Russias slept in a disused hospital and 
ate his dinner in a marquee. Sometimes 
the dust was half an inch thick on the 
plates on the Imperial table. At noon 
lunch was served for all gentlemen at- 
tached to the head-quarters ; in the even- 
ing tin' Emperor selected his guests. The 
foreign military attachis, the journalists, 
and the artists set up their tents aud 
shifted for themselves. They longed for 
the definite advance into Bulgaria, for 
inaction and privation together were 
simply intolerable. 

Every day, over the poorly traced 
highway leading from Giurgevo to Sim- 
nitza, came thousands of troops, grimly 
bending to their work, setting their faces 
sternly to the East. We never tired of 
watching the solid infantry-men as they 
plodded by, now answering the saluta- 
tion of a General with a shout, which 
made one's heart beat taster than usual, 
now singing almost reverently in chorus. 
The Cossacks wen' our chief delight. 
Dust and fatigue seemed to have no 
power to choke the harmony which welled 
up melodiously, as from the pipes of a 
mighty organ, whenever a Cossack reg- 
iment halted. On they came, now at 
dawn, now at dusk, thousands of lithe, 
sinewy, square-faced, long-haired youth, 
with shrewd twinkling eyes, small hands 
and feet, nerves of steel, ami gestures full 

of utmost earnestness. The leader of 
each squadron usually "lined" the hymn 
or ballad which was sung. Behind him 
hundreds of voices took up the chorus, 
and prolonged it until the heavens seemed 

filled with sweet mites. Sometimes the 
singers recited the exploits of an an- 
cient hetman of their tribes ; sometimes 
an exquisite and tender sentiment of 
melancholy pervaded their song — a 
longing for home, for kindred, for babe 
aud wife ; sometimes a rude worship per- 



750 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



meated every note. From the camps of 
these stout fellows, who are the eyes and 
ears of the Russian army when it is in 
an enemy's country, nightly arose the 
mournful and spiritual cadences of the 
"Evening Prayer," followed by the Rus- 
sian national anthem, than which no na- 
tion has a grander. When the 'breezes 
were favorable we could hear the singing 
of the Russian troops beyond the Dan- 
ube, and from time to time through the 
long night, cheer answered cheer across 
the wide dark waters. This singing was 
a marked feature of the early campaign 
in Bulgaria. On the march, when near 
the enemy, infantry and cavalry were 
alike silent, grave, watchful, but at night 
nothing could restrain thechoriis. ( Jrand, 
plaintive, often pathetic, it mounted to 
the stars; and when the Turks heard it. 
it must have impressed them powerfully. 
In the savage self-complacency of his 
own prayer the Mussulman may have 
disdained the Giaour's expression of 
worship and adoration, but his soul 
must have been touched by the har- 
mony ami rhythm. I know that the 
stolid faces of certain Anatolians who 
were held as prisoners at Simnitza bright- 
ened a little when they heard the bands 
of singing Cossacks pa^s : but whether 
the brightness was caused by hatred or 
admiration 1 cannot tell. The Bulga- 
rians seemed dazed by so much singing ; 
ami although at a later period they tried 
to imitate it. even inventing a ■•national 
hymn," which was at best but a. melan- 
choly affair, they always did it in a 
half-hearted ami frightened manner, as 
if they feared that the ferocious Turk, 
with bastinado and knife, were about 
to appear. 

At last the army authorities, who had 
held us back, informed journalists, 
artists, and all civilians who had re- 
ceived permission to follow the army 



that visits to Sistova were allowed and 
that the road into Bulgaria was open. 

Seen from the Danube, Sistova does 
not present a very attractive appear- 
ance. Here and then' a white minaret 
gleams in the sun ; masses of small cot- 
tages with thatched roofs, colored like 
the cliffs to which they cling, are grouped 
with but little pictnresqueness. Near 
the Danube there are a few large ware- 
houses and "hotels." But that part 
of Sistova which cannot be seen from 
the river is quite imposing, and there 
the Turk, who has an eye for the beau- 
tiful in nature, had chosen his quarter, 
where he dwelt proudly apart from the 
despised Christian. 

We scrambled down the steep banks 
from Simnitza one terribly hot day, 
fought our way through the throngs 
of Jewish merchants, pushed past the 
troops waiting the signal to cross the 
bridge, and were finally permitted to 
pass on. Dismounting from our horses, 
we led them across this remarkable pon- 
toon structure, which was afterward sup- 
plemented by a second and stronger one, 
though, as the event has proved, not 
more capable than the first of holding 
its own against Father Danube's wintry 
wrath. In each pontoon sat a hardy 
sailor, silent, contentedly munching 
black-bread or reading a, Moscow news- 
paper. The Russians were wise ill 
choosing Simnitza as their principal 
crossing-point . for there the islands aided 
in the work. But when later in the 
campaign, in the dreary rainy days of 
autumn, those islands had become 
transformed into lakes of liquid mud, 
the spectacle of dead and dying horses, 
men suffering with fever in the insuf- 
ficient shelter of tents, broken and 
almost submerged wagons, was dis- 
heartening. A Scotch journalist insists 
that the greatest battle fought by the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



751 



Russians was with the Danube during 
the whole of one terrible day and night, 
when the river seemed anxious to aid 
the Turks and to carry out the pro- 
gramme which Abdul Kerim had so 
fondly imagined possible, — that of is- 
olating the invader in Bulgaria, and 
then falling upon him both in front and 
rear. 

The approaches to Sistova by the only 
practicable road are wildly romantic, 
weird, desolate. I could think of nothing 
but the region described by Robert Brown- 
ing in his poem, " Childe Harold to the 
Dark Tower came." A sense of fore- 
boding seemed to fasten on one as he 
rode in among the giant hills. But there 
was no enemy left to be wary of, even 
at that early dab'. Audacious tactics, or 
"lack of tactics,'' as the Austrian mili- 
tary attacM insisted upon saying, had 
succeeded, and at the cost of compar- 
atively few lives. Dragimiroff and his 
braves had pushed the Turks well back 
toward Tirnova. So we slept in peace 
at Sistova in the court-yard of a pretty 
cottage which a wealthy Turk had left 
in haste, and which the Bulgarians had 
plundered afterwards. The Bulgarians 
had not been civil enough to leave us 
even a chair or table ; so we were com- 
pelled to unpack our camp equipage. 
The servants built a fire in the yard, 
made tea, produced a thin Turkish wine 
which they had found in the town, gave 
us bread, — which seemed a miracle, as 
we had been absolutely without it for 
three days, — and even hinted at the 
possibility of having a fish out of the 
Danube. But that was too much. We 
battled witli temptation, and, consoling 
ourselves with tea, retired to rest in our 
wagon. No Turk came to disturb us, 
although the Bulgarians had assured us 
that we should have our throats cut if 
we dared to remain in the Turkish quar- 



ter over night ; but our horses, picketed 
at the wagon-pole, seemed inclined at 
intervals in the night to munch our un- 
protected toes; and this caused us no 
little uneasiness. Lying wakeful in the 
mellow moonlight, whose beams stole 
even under tile wagon's leathern hood, 
nothing could be more inexpressibly 
comical than the grave, elongated, sym- 
pathetic, inquiring faces of our four 
horses as they peered in at us. I slept 
as dawn came, and dreamed that the 
Turk had returned and was pillaging his 
own house. 

Many points in Sistova remind one 
of old Italian towns. A crumbling for- 
tress on a pinnacle : a mysterious-looking 
mansion set on a shelf of rock ; a bal- 
cony half concealed by perfumed shrubs 
and fair blossoms ; a street of stairs hewn 
from solid rock ; a white pathway winding 
along the edge of a miniature precipice, 
— these were elements of the picturesque 
which we had seen elsewhere. But the 
dark faces which glared at us from behind 
lattices ; the old kaimakam of stately 
port and turbaned head ; the captive 
bashi-bazouk, with his hideous, igno- 
rant scowl, his belt filled with weapons, 
and his shambling gait : the timorous Bul- 
garian women, in their bright, neatly 
woven garments. — the women who 
rose up at our approach, and seemed 
not to dare to believe that their souls 
were their own, — these were new types. 
We were not specially inclined to ad- 
mire the humbler samples of the Bul- 
garian men : their ways were the least 
bit fawning, and they seemed deficient 
in energy. These much down-trodden 
folk were beginning however to have 
some semblance of national feeling. 
They covered their red head-gear with 
handkerchiefs or strips of linen, and 
marked them with the image of the 
redeeming cross. It was also under- 



752 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



stood by the Bulgarians that the cross 
upon the door of a shop or house would 
preserve it from intrusion when prying 
Cossack and more inquisitive native 
l»«'jj,;> ii to search for plunder in the sur- 
rendered town. Some critics who have 
been anxious to please the carping Eng- 
lish conservatives, who naturally desire 
to place the Bulgarians in as unfavor- 
able a light as possible, have accused 
the latter of much pillaging and cruelty. 
That they did aid the Cossacks in sack- 
ing the Turkish houses in Sistova and 
Tirnova after the oppressor had lied 
there can be no doubt — no more doubl 
than that almost any other nation that 
had been so horribly abused for centuries 
would have gone further, and on the ap- 
proach of the deliverer would have mas- 
sacred the oppressor rather than have 
allowed him to flee. After the first flush 
of excitement was over the goods taken 
from Turkish houses wen' piled in one 
of the public squares, and official notice 
was given that when the Turkish inhab- 
itants returned they might identify and 
reclaim their property. 

If the mass of Bulgarian men did not 
impress us favorably, it was not so with 
the educated and refined specimens sent 
forth from our American college in Con- 
stantinople. The acute English critics, 
who seemed to follow thi' campaign for 
the express purpose of finding fault with 
even thing, professed to like the educated 
Bulgarian still less than his uneducated 
brother. They found him arrogant, pre- 
tentious, idle, ami lacking in stamina. 
We found him gentle, possessed of the 

soft and yielding manner of these south- 
ern peoples.it is true; hut we also found 
him earnest, well grounded in general 
knowledge, and anxious for special study. 
He seemed to us like a young American, 
so well did he speak the English which 
he had. learned in Robert College, and 



so exactly had he caught our national 
inflection. Out of this little group of 
young men may spring the one who is 
to prompt the nation to a new intellect- 
ual life. It is but fair to say that, we did 
not see the representatives of the better 
classes of Bulgarians at Sistova. The 
young men who had received an English 
education were generally natives of points 
nearer the Balkan range. The people 
near the Danube have been much more 
bitterly oppressed and degraded than 
those on the Balkan slopes or beyond 
the mountains. The Turkish tax-gath- 
erer's most, ferocious raids were made 
(jn the fat lands near the great river, and 
there the people were naturally less inter- 
esting. All individuality seemed to have 
been crushed out, of them. They were 
jealous and suspicious of their friends, 
as well as of their known enemies. I 
narrowly escaped a. severe beating at, 
an angry and herculean peasant's hands 
one evening because 1 insisted that, he 
should sell some grain from his overflow- 
ing store for my starving horses. He re- 
fused, and Hew into a passion when com- 
pelled to sell. Long contact with the 
treachery and greed of the Turk had 
made the farmer morose and mean. If 
he could only keep what In' had accu- 
mulated, even though it might rot, he 
thought himself lucky. lie knew little 
of the value of exchange, and cared less. 

Farther in the interior of Bulgaria we 
found the peasant, Turkish and Bul- 
garian, willing to trade and sharp at a 
bargain. But in a squalid village of 
huts near the Danube one day we paid 
two francs for some bread and cheese, 
for the privilege of reposing in a cottage, 
after eight hours in the saddle, and for 
some milk. The coin was placed on the 
low Turkish table around which we had 
been seated ei'OSS-legged while we ate 
our simple meal, and when we went 



EUROPE IX STORM AM) CALM. 



753 



away it was still lying untouched. They 
were not even curious to know what it 
was, nor did they thank us for it. I feel 
convinced that they did not comprehend 
that it was money. They gave help if 
one's wagon-wheel came off, or drew 
water from the wells for one, or told the 
route, and warned us against dangerous 
roads with alacrity and zeal, and some- 
times crossed themselves, saying that 
they did the service in Christ's name ; 
but barter was difficult, and annoyed 
and angered them. 

To be compelled to hurry was likewise 
very distasteful to Bulgarians every- 
where. We offered four francs for a 
small kid cooked and so wrapped up 
that we could have it in our wagon to 
rely on for supper in a certain village. 
The good man who was to do the work 
finally gave it up, saying that it never 
could be ready for live o'clock in the 
morning, although the order was given 
at three o'clock on a previous afternoon. 
Nothing awed and amazed the peasantry 
so much as to see a plain white with 
tents at evening, and when they arose 
in the morning to find the camp 
gone. The women were loud in their 
complaints against the Turks in all the 
Danube country. Near the Balkans they 
said but little, and seemed ashamed to 
acknowledge that they had ever been 
under Turkish domination. The moun- 
taineers were every way more effective in 
serving the cause than the peasantry of 
the plain, who seemed to look at the 
passage of the Russians with nothing 
more than gratitude and curiosity. In 
Sistova the peasants seemed densely 
stupid; in Gabrova, sympathetic, and 
even sharp. Gabrova lies at the foot of 
the mountains. 

We pressed onward from Sistova. ex- 
pecting that the head-quarters would 
soon be transferred to some point in 



Bulgaria ; and our expectations were 
not vain. At a miserable village called 
Tzarevitza, where there had been a con- 
siderable Turkish population, we found 
nothing but empty huts, and one or two 
regiments camped in the pleasant woods 
near by. In the afternoon all the fine 
gentlemen of the head-quarters arrived, 
half famished, choked with thirst, and 
the gorgeous uniforms which they had 
put on for their entry into the enemy's 
country tarnished and almost ruined. 
Generals young and old, princes, cap- 
tains, diplomatic agents, and attaches 
broke suddenly upon our little camp, 
which we had established in the middle 
of a forest, and demanded food and 
drink. The tent-mattings were littered 
with yataghans, beautiful Kirghese 
swords, — souvenirs of Central Asian 
campaigns, — Smith & Wesson revolv- 
ers, the jewelled rapier of the court 
official, and the thin blade of the diplo- 
matist. The unfortunate representatives 
of Russia's dignity and authority were 
destined to wait nearly twelve hours be- 
fore their wagons, containing tents, food, 
drink, aud clothing, came up with them. 
So they beguiled the hours with mighty 
draughts of tea, which we were happily 
able to furnish them, and charmed us 
with those two prominent traits of the 
Russian gentleman's character, demo- 
cratic freedom from affectation and 
perfect amiability. These are good qual- 
ities, especially in warriors. Add to 
these an almost excessive frankness, 
even in dealing with their own faults, 
and 1 think one may safely say that the 
Russians are worthy praise. Then' is in 
them much of the keenness of the< >riental. 
They can dissemble when they feel that 
they are surrounded by those who arc 
hostile to their aims, and if need be can 
cajole as well. The Russian has a sharp 
sense of resentment, especially if he 



754 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

fancies that his motives are misunder- as they marched by. The Generals and 

stood or wilfully misinterpreted; but he other superior officers are very like those 

has none of the stiffness of the Prussian, of America, in their complete disregard 

— nothing whatever of his arrogance, of anything like formulas and their con- 

A correspondent once unwittingly gave tempt for undue assumption of dignity. 

his card t le grand duke, asking him From the emperor to the aide-de-camp 

to hand it ti> another. The person ad- there is not a single degree of rank in 

dressed promised, with the most perfect which one does not find unfailing, ser- 

politeness, to do it, and did not appear viceable politeness, — that politeness 

tn think it extraordinary. which has been so accurately described 

There was but one critical remark as proceeding from "natural goodness 

which some of the journalists following of heart." 

the army were inclined to make, and The Grand Duke Nicholas, brother of 

that was, that perhaps these gracious the -Emperor, and commander-in-chief of 

and amiable gentlemen who chatted so the Russian armies in Europe, arrived in 

pleasantly in our tent at Tzarevitza, and Tzarevitza toward evening, and took up 

whose manners were so perfect while so his quarters in a deserted cottage. The 

utterly simple, would disdain their enemy, only sign of his presence was a small flag 

or would neglect some great opportunity and an infantry hand, which astounded 

to crush him, which would result in their the few Bulgarians left in the village 

own undoing. The persons who had with some rather noisy selections from 

suggested this were not slow to insist the repertoire of Maltre Offenbach. I 

that it was true when the Plevna check first saw the Grand Duke engaged in 

occurred, and for a time they exulted in cooking live]- and bacon over a huge tire, 

the pride of what they were pleased to precisely as our frontiersmen cook venison 

term their foresight. lint presently — in slices spitted on a large hard-wood 

Plevna fell, and a hundred voices conn- stick. As evening approached a certain 

selled Turkey to sue for peace. Certain amount of ceremony was preserved in 

la\itics of discipline and freedom from the yard of the cottage, where most of 

proper caution observable early in the the members of the staff had gathered, 

Campaign were corrected when the whole hut Nicholas paid small attention to it. 

vast military machine was thoroughly in lie strode to and fro with long, elastic, 

motion. The rigidity of Prussian train- swinging step, superintending his own 

ing is impossible to Russians: their dinner, although there were numerous 

natures and their sense of individual servants in attendance. The veteran 

manliness alike rebel against it. Officers ( lossack < General, Skobeleff, father of the 

and men are much nearer to each other youthful General whose reckless heroism 

than in German or other armies. A has given him fame throughout Europe 

country ruled by a man who has absolute and America, had witli his own hands 

power over the subject has an army in slaughtered and dressed a sheep, and it 

which the officers are often familiar, and was now roasting in the fashion which 

generally free and easy, with their sol- has been known in the East for the last 

diers. During the entry of certain regi- three thousand years. 

incuts into Tirnova a lieutenant whom Nicholas had a face which in repose was 

we knew came to our room, and from its proud, imperious, and showed wonderful 

windows pelted his own men with flowers capacity for passion. A lightning-like 



EVROTE IX STORM AND CALM. 



755 



temper might at a moment's notice be 
betrayed by those keen eyes, ordinarily 
filled with pleasant smiles. Quick in 
all his motions, he liked quickness in 
others ; he rode a horse which it wore 
others out to follow, and was fond of 




GENERAL SKor.Kl.EFF. 

dashing away to some distant village, 
and then sending for the others to come 
up with him, while he was on the road to 
Tiruova. lie told me with great glee 
how he left the palace of Cotroceni in 
Bucharest by stealth, went down to the 
Danube, and had half his plans per- 
fected before any one outside his immedi- 
ate personal circle knew of it. He 
spoke English as perfectly as a foreigner 
can : it was the first language that 
he learned, anil he had a Scotch nurse. 
His dress was always simple in the ex- 
treme, and while to accept tile deference 
paid him by the officers who surround 
him seemed second nature to one bred to 
it, he would not receive it from strangers, 



anil even disliked to lie called by his title. 
On the whole he had the strength of 
character and fine sense of honor which 
are the family traits, with a winsome, fas- 
cinating manner added to them. Of his 
abilities as a military commander the 
world has been able to judge. Although 
he was surrounded by competent advisers, 
he was nevertheless entitled to much 
credit for the successes which the Rus- 
sians, in the face of tremendous ob- 
stacles, finally achieved. 

The Russian Imperial family found 
itself in an exceedingly difficult position 
in 1*77. Forced by the enthusiastic 
agitators of Moscow toward a war which 

must of necessity be long and bl ly, 

they entered into the campaign almost 
with reluctance ; but once engaged in it, 
the Emperor and the Grand Dukes all 
showed their willingness to share the 
perils and many of the privations which 
fell to the lot of the humbler, and were 
active from the time of the cross- 
ing into Bulgaria at Simnitza until the 
surrender of Osman at Plevna. Al- 
though the Czar was for much of the 
time in delicate health, he refused to 
quit the field, and remained in fever- 
ridden Biela long after it seemed dan- 
gerous in the extreme for him to slay. 
An engineer officer of the United Stales 
army who spent some time in the 
Russian camps informed me that the 
Imperial Majesty of all the Rus- 
sias was more indifferently lodged at 
Biela than an American Colonel would 
be during an expedition on the plains. 
The kitchen of majesty was doubtless 
better served than that of the com- 
mon soldier, but the clouds of dust, 
the draughts of air. the all but intol- 
erable smells, the occasional invading 
scorpion and the innumerable inquisi- 
tive bugs respected Czar no whit more 
than Cossack. 



756 



KLUori; L\ STURM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX. 

General Radetzky.— Russians on the March. — Infantry-Men. — i lossaeks.— Dragimrroff. — In Camp. — 

Reception of the Liberating Russians by the Bulgarians. — Enthusias f the Women and < 'hildren. 

Welcome by the Monks and Priests- -The HWile beside the Yantra. -- The Arrival at Tirnova.— 
Triumphal Procesiion. — The Grand Duke Nicholas in Church. — The Picturesque City on the 
Yantra. — The Greek Ladies. — Fugitives from Eski Zaghra. 



FINDING that the Eighth corps, 
under command of General Ra- 
detzky, had been ordered to push forward 
us rapidly as possible into the interior of 
Bulgaria, we joined our fortunes to the 
staff of this brave fragment of the Rus- 
sian army, — a fragment destined to be 
so cruelly tried, and so severely punished 
in the campaign. The grand ducal staff 
was difficult to find after five o'clock in 
the morning: it vanished, and we were 
compelled either to follow it across fields 
and over by-roads at a venture, or to 
journey with the staff of one of the 
corps. We preferred the latter course. 
Two or three days' marches through a 
rolling country, where the crops were 
already in splendid condition, and where 
a few peasants had gathered courage to 
reappear in the fields, brought us to a 
picturesque region where hills were 
loftier, fields were, if possible, more 
fertile, than in the Danube basin, and 
the men and the women were of nobler 
type than those by the river-side. Long 
before dawn a stout band of Cossacks 
started and rode carefully and diligently 
over the whole route of the day's march. 
They penetrated to all the villages on 
the right or left, pursued roving bands 
of hashi-bazouks if any were to be 
found, and reported by faithful couriers 
to the General commanding the corps. 

By six the infantry was on the march. 
moving forward with slow, deliberate 



step, as if determined to expend as little 
force as possible. Then followed artil- 
lery ; next miles on miles of wagons, 
for the baggage-train even of a Russian 
army corps or of a battalion is of phe- 
nomenal size in comparison with those 
in other armies. The ambulances and 
a small rear-guard came lumbering 
behind. This marching column was 
usually so long drawn out, so very thin, 
that it would have been cut in two a 
dozen times daily had the Turks had 
any effective regular or irregular cavalry. 
A few horsemen on the brow of a hill at 
right or left sometimes produced an ex- 
cellent effect : the column, in which 
great gaps had been growing for an hour 
or two, came together in solid fashion 
once more. But the Turks never im- 
proved their advantages in a single 
instance. The bashi-ba/.ouks were too 
cowardly: they desired to light only 
when they were certain of incurring 
small personal risk ; and a dash into the 
middle of a marching column had a 
spice of adventure in it which they did 
not relish. 

With but very short intervals for re- 
pose the troops usually marched until 
noon, and sometimes, if water were not 
readily to be had, until three o'clock'. 
The officers said but little, generally 
gave their commands in low voices, and 
used their own discretion in allowing 
rest. If the sun were very hot and no 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



air were stirring — a terrible trial in a 

treeless country — a halt would lie ordered 
and company after company would 
throw itself on the ground with that feel- 
ing of intense relief which only he who 
makes the soldier's effort can know. 
Yet the men were never heavily loaded. 
The officers allowed them to pack their 
knapsacks and blankets into the wagons, 
and to march weighted down by noth- 
ing save their light linen suits and 
their guns. We often found our wagon 
after a halt half tilled with knapsacks. 
This at first puzzled us, but we soon 
discovered that the proper plan was 
to stipulate for the carriage of a cer- 
tain number. The others were promptly 
thrown out, and presently we would 
see their owners stealing up with roguish 
smiles to recover them. As soon as the 
village or the river near which we were 
to encamp was reached, the bands began 
to play lively airs, and the soldiers, un- 
less orders had been for some pruden- 
tial reason issued against it, broke into 
singing. Then tents were speedily pitched 
and by four or five o'clock the weary 
soldier was invited to a hot and substan- 
tial meal. The use of tobacco among 
these troops seemed insignificant as 
compared with the enormous consump- 
tion of that article in the Prussian and 
French armies. A Prussian Uhlan or a 
foot-soldier has his porcelain pipe or 
cheap cigar in his mouth every moment 
of the day that such indulgence is pos- 
sible ; but I have seen the Cossacks sit 
for hours idly singing or basking in the 
sunshine, and evidently anxious for no 
narcotic. When the Cossack has taken 
too much liquor he is daugerous, and 
sometimes very brutal. It is then that 
his passion for stealing horses becomes 
developed to an alarming extent. The 
Cossack, when he enters tin- service of 
the Czar, is humid to furnish his own 



steed, and as it may often become a 
very sorry beast in the course of a cam- 
paign, he is frequently anxious to change 
it for a better one. But when he is so- 
ber he realizes to the utmost the danger 
which he would incur by any display of 
lawlessness. On the march to the Bal- 
kans there were few if any sutlers — or 
"market-tenders," as they are called — 
in the train, and soldiers had no chance 
to replenish their scanty stores of liquor 
at a merchant's counter. 

Near Ivantcha, a pretty village which 
had suffered much from Turkish rapac- 
ity and brutality, the Eighth corps, a 
compact little army of thirty thousand 
men, came upon the high-road leading to 
Tirnova from Rustchuk. At six on a 
breezy summer morning we found the 
veteran Radetzky seated on a rock at the 
summit of one of the tumuli, or obsei - - 
vation-mounds, to lie found everywhere 
in Bulgaria. The long lines of infantry 
were slowly defiling below, and from the 
throats of the men of each battalion as 
it passed the point of observation came 
a loud cry of " Morning ! " in answer to 
the friendly " Morning, brothers ! " of the 
General. Radetzky is a tranquil, easy- 
going commander of the old school ; he 
takes every event in the most matter-of- 
fact way, seems utterly devoid of energy 
until the very last moment, when he 
summons it, dues just the right tiling, 
and acts with marvellous celerity, as he 
did at the time of Suleiman Pacha's furi- 
ous attack on the positions in the Shipka 
Pass. In appearance he is more like 
a good bourgeois shopkeeper than like 
a general ; stretches himself with the 
utmost unconcern on a carpet in camp ; 
tosses off a dozen huge bumpers of scald- 
ing tea ; smiles at the name of Turk ; 
crosses himself as devoutly as do any of 
the Cossacks, and inspires every one who 
comes into contact with him with genuine 



758 , EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

affection. His chief of staff, Dimitri- He is dark complexioned, of medium 

owski, a veteran of Central Asian cam- height; time has taken tribute of his 

paigns, bestrode a Kirghese horse, which hair, but has not abated his energy. 

had faithfully borne him in more than His order of the day for the conduct of 

fifteen thousand miles of campaigning, the troops who were detailed to cross the 

To sec these two amiable gentlemen rid- Danube in front of Sistova was filled 

ing slowly across fields together one with the same brief, incisive instructions 

would never fancy them to be soldiers ; winch Suwarrow was so fond of giving. 

yet both were valiant in the highest de- The most noteworthy thing in this order 

give at Shipka. The chief of staff was was the command to the soldiers to listen 

dangerously wounded then', while Ra- to no signal of retreat under any circuin- 

detzky rushed into the light as impnl- stances whatever. The duty plainly al- 

sivcly as a boy of twenty, and repelled lotted them was to take Sistova and the 

forces largely outnumbering his own. positions dominating the point at which 

From this high mound in the centre the Russian engineers wished to con- 

of a broad plain, where General Radetz- struct their bridge — to take and hold 

ky had installed himself, we could see these points, or to perish in the attempt. 

a thin white line moving slowly along General Dragimiroff was justly proud of 

the road two or three miles away, and his achievement, and as lie threw hini- 

presently the morning sun flashed 11)1011 self from his horse on that lovely July 

the tops of ten thousand polished gun- morning and scrambled up the mound to 

barrels with dazzling splendor. Out of greet his General, he did not realize that 

this blinding light suddenly rode, pound- weary weeks in hospital were soon to lie 

ing vigorously on his sturdy charger along his portion. He was disabled at Shipka 

the hard turnpike, and followed by a by a severe leg wound during Suleiman's 

rakish-looking detachment of Cossacks, attack. 

General Dragimiroff, the hero of the At our left, and perhaps two miles dis- 
tight before Sistova and commander of taut, arose a steep and thinly wooded 
a division of the famous fighting Eighth, mountain range, which, according to the 
Dragimiroff is a man of mark in Russia ; Bulgarians, afforded shelter to several 
he is the disciple of the great Suwar- thousandsof irregular Mussulman troops, 
row. who made the Russian soldier, who had hidden themselves at the ap- 
and who gave him the thousand maxims proach of General Radetzky. It was 
for military conduct, filled with common (anions to observe the tactics of the Cos- 
sense and manly feeling, which one sacks in exploring the country near this 
hears in the ranks. Before Suwarrow mountain. With our glasses we could 
the Russian. soldier was a machine ; now see them trotting swiftly across the un- 
tie is a man. General Dragimiroff is a even field, their lance-points glistening 
handsome gentleman of elegant deport- in the sun. As they approached a vil- 
ment, a little past the prime of life ; now Iage they gathered into a little knot, to 
and then, when he [Hits on his spectacles separate swiftly again as they found 
and begins a discussion on tactics, he nothing to impede their progress. Then 
seems the least bit like a school-master, they came circling and swooping back 
lint when he is in the saddle, surrounded toward the main line, and when they 
by officers and rattling toward an en- were near enough to be clearly observed 
gagement, he looks every inch a soldier, we saw that most of their saddle-bows 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



759 



were decorated with chickens or fat 
geese. 

As we moved slowly forward that day 
we saw villages in flames on our right 
and left. Some of them were burned 
by Mussulmans flying before the wrath 
to come and anxious to leave uo stores 
behind for the comfort of the Russians ; 
others were set on fire by Cossacks ; 
other fires still were kindled by Bul- 
garians, to burn Turkish houses as soon 
as the occupants had departed. But uo 
enemy was to be found, and we camped 
that evening in a romantic valley beside 
the Rushitza river, a wide and deep 
stream at this particular place. The 
Turks, with their usual kindness, had 
left a large wooden bridge intact. In- 
fantry and cavalry poured over this, and 
soon found quarters in a pleasant wood, 
while the artillery forded the stream. It 
would have been gratifying to see at 
least a few hundred hostile horsemen or 
a little band of infantry wearing the red 
caps of the Turks, but none were visible. 
The Ottomans had encamped on this 
very spot but a short time before, how- 
ever, and it was believed that they could 
not be far away. 

The Grand Duke slept in the tiny vil- 
lage of Palikvast. twenty minutes' gal- 
lop from our camp, that night, and next 
morning prepared fur his triumphal entry 
into Tirnova. Our Eighth corps marched 
merrily over the hills and through the 
deep vales until it came to a small town 
just at the entrance of the magnificent 
defile at the opposite end of which Tir- 
nova is situated. Here the inhabitants 
were assembled, dressed in their best 
attire, tin' women and ^irls wearing gold 
and silver ornaments, which they had 
rarely dared to put on under Turkish 
rule. A half-smothered cry of admira- 
tion and joy burst from the hundreds 
assembled from all the country-places 



near by as the staff entered the 
village. Flowers were handed to the 
horsemen. Little maidens modestly and 
timidly proffered fruit anil bread. The 
village priests with tear-stained faces 
stood holding the holy painted images 
of the saints and muttering words of 
praise and consolation. A lusty youth, 
appointed to ring the chimes on a musi- 
cally tuned bar of steel, which had beeu 
extemporized to serve instead of the bells 
so sternly forbidden by the Turkish op- 
pressors, rang and danced, and laughed 
and wept alternately as he danced and 
rang. The women clasped their children 
to their breasts with fierce and proud ca- 
resses, and cried as if their hearts would 
burst for joy. From the wooden-grated 
window of a room in the khan of the 
hamlet two Turkish prisoners — turbaned 
Mussulmans, who would have been ven- 
erable had it not been for the horrible 
atrocities of which they were convicted 
— glared out upon the arriving troops 
with a dull, hopeless ferocity. One of 
these ancient ruffians had been twice lib- 
erated on account of his great age, but 
the second time he fell into an uncontrol- 
lable fury, spat upon the ground, and, 
drawing his knife, prepared to run 
amuck among the villagers, when he was 
rearrested. The ignoble miscreant had 
murdered several innocent children in 
the course of his worthless life. lie and 
his companion were hanged during our 
stay in Tirnova. 

The Russian infantry-men, marching 
stoutly by to the music of inspiring 
strains, such as Bulgarians had never 
heard before, seemed to astonish the ig- 
norant villagers beyond measure. They 
constantly inquired for "Alexander," 
the beloved name representing in their 
minds the deliverance. The Cossacks 
seemed inspired on this occasion : they 
had caught the spirit of delirious joy 



71)0 



EUROPE IS STORM ASK CALM. 



which prevailed among the Bulgarians, 
and as a regiment of the brave fellows 
came slowly through the town, beating 
time with wild gestures to their own 
wilder SOUg, which swelled and swelled 
in volume until the narrow valley seemed 
too small to contain it, enthusiasm lost 
all bounds. Many women threw them- 
selves, sobbing hysterically, Oil the 
ground, hiding their faces, while their lit- 
tle children tugged at their skirts. Mean- 
time fighting was in progress not 
far away. A Cossack captain showed 
us a goodly store of richly mounted arms 
and saddles, bridles and cloths worked 
with gold, brought in from a village 
twenty miles distant, where the Turkish 
peasants had made a bold stand against 
twice their number of Cossacks. Only 
the threat that, the town would be burned 
could induce the villagers to give up 
their arms. 

We rode on through the mighty defile 
beside the beautiful Yant ra to Tirnova, 
the ancient capital of the Bulgarian 
kings, and positively the most pictu- 
resque town that I have ever seen. We 
left the troops behind, and galloped 
along a narrow road where two hundred 
men might have held the pass against 
ten thousand. That the Turks should 
ever have been foolish enough to yield 
this defile without the defence which 
it. was so easy to make seems incredible. 
On either hand, perched high among the 
rocks, is a monastery, from which the 
old and young monks had come down 
to greet us. ( renerals and minor officers 
doffed their hats and bent reverently 
for the monkish benediction, then 
passed on. crossing themselves. Soon 
we saw the roof of a mosque glittering 
in the sun, and clambering up a long and 
stony ascent, and clattering through the 
narrow and duty streets, we made our 
way to a many-gabled, quaintly -balconied 



house, which an officer of the advance- 
guard had hastily chosen for General 
Radetzky's head-quarters. Behind us 
the street was speedily tilled with an 
immense detachment of cavalry, which 
had come in by another road and 
was pushing straight on to the 
Balkans. So we sat for an hour 
on our horses watching this human 
torrent as it swept by, and wondering 
how many of tin' thousands of horsemen 
would ever sec Russia again. 

At Tirnova, as at the little village, the 
cry was for " Alexander." People did 
not seem to know who Grand Duke 
Nicholas was ; they only knew that 
after an absurdly ineffectual resistance 
the Turk had lied and the Russian de- 
liverer had come in his place. And 
what joy bubbled and frothed in laughter 
and song or evanesced in tears as the 
freed people promenaded the crooked 
avenues, arm in arm, crying " Hurrah!" 
as if they were not used to doing it but 
thought it a good accomplishment to 
acquire ! 

When the street was once more pass- 
able we hastened to the high walls over- 
looking the valley to observe the entry 
of the Grand Duke ami his staff. Trav- 
ersing tin 1 town, and now and then 
following the Cossacks down steep 
avenues, where one's neck was in immi- 
nent danger, then climbing a street set 
upon the outermost edge of a very preci- 
pice, we came to a plateau whence we 
could sec a long procession of horsemen 
winding through the sunlit valley, 
and finally pausing before a company of 
priests, who bore them the bread and 
salt of hospitality and the divine sym- 
bols, that, they might kiss them. The 
procession made its way as best it could 
to flu' principal church, where Nicholas, 
hand on sword, stood for half an hour 
listening to the chants of the priests and 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



7<U 



the somewhat monotonous music of the 
choir-boys. In this church we caught 
sight of Bulgarian beauty, which unsym- 
pathetic Hungarians anil sneering Rou- 
manians had taught us to consider a 
myth. Dark-eyed, dark-haired girls 
crowded toward the altar to see the 
deliverer, bowed their pretty heads rev- 
erently when he kissed the crucifix, and 
shot bewitching glances at the young 
officers, who had donned their most brill- 
iant uniforms for this memorable occa- 
sion. In single file the Duke, his aides- 
de-camp aud half a hundred officers 
passed out of the town to a hill a short 
distance beyond it, where, in a hand- 
some suburban villa, the ducal head- 
quarters were established. The plain 
near by was white with tents, and col- 
umns of men filled the only two roads 
in the vicinity. Had the Grand Duke 
dreamed that at that moment Osman 
Pasha was moving toward Plevna he 
would have considered his own arrival 
in Tirnova as hazardous. But in igno- 
rance of any such movement every one 
was ready to declare that, as far as 
Philippopolis or Sofia, the war would be 
nothing but a, promenade militaire. 

From the plain where the Russians were 
encamped, Tirnova appeared rather like 
a faery city risen at the command of an 
enchanter than like a town built In- 
human hands. The lowest range of 
dwellings is placed on a bluff above the 
Yantra river, and the highest on a high 
pinnacle of the lofty gorge. The com- 
binations of color, of form, are infinite : 
one never tires of gazing at the streets of 
slairs, down which the Cossacks ride 
on horseback fearlessly; at the masses 
of slated roofs, from which the inhabi- 
tants of neighboring houses carry on 
animated conversations in high-pitched 
voices; at the balconies, latticed or 
open, from which one can look down 



hundreds of feet into yellow water, or 
upon odorous gardens, where the richest 
blossoms flourish. A house in Tirnova 
appears to have no foundation ; it is in 
some mysterious manner inextricably 
connected with those above and those 
below it, and its cellars and sub-cellars 
seem to extend into tin' bowels of the 
earth. The houses of well-to-do citizens 
are ample, even vast; the court-yards 
are surrounded by veritable parapets 
and ramparts. The interior furnishing 
is simple and Oriental: divans, low and 
covered witli coarse carpets, are more 
common than beds ; and in the recess 
of a great window, so placed as to catch 
the faintest sigh of the breeze, one 
usually finds carpets and cushions form- 
ing couches, where the rich Bulgarian 
takes his siesta when the sun is hot. 
The Greek families in Tirnova are 
numerous, and the Greek ladies are 
renowned for their beauty. The Bul- 
garian peasant women are stately, and 
possess a quiet dignity which has a 
certain charm. They talk lint little: 
:i bevy of girls drawing water at a foun- 
tain are as silent as if at a funeral. 
They bear pain with great fortitude. 

We had an excellent opportunity to 
observe this trait in their characters 
when the fugitives from Roumelia came 
crowding through the Shipka Pass and 
down the foot-hills of the Balkans to 
Tirnova. For days the streets were 
filled with half-starved women and girls, 
most of whom had lost husbands, 
brothers, or protectors in the dreadful 
massacres in and around Kski Zaghra, 
and some of whom had been wounded ; 
but none complained aloud, and all bore 
their troubles witli a patient resignation 
which was extremely touching. They 
cannot control themselves in joy so well 
as in pain, — probably because they 
have had in their lives much more of the 



7(5 S 



EUROPE IN ZTORM AND CALM. 



latter than of the former. Women who 
have seen their children wrested from 
their arms by merciless and fanatical 
oppressors, and buried alive, can endure 
almost anything. The women of Loft- 
scha who escaped from the massacre 
with which the troops of Osman Pasha 
whetted their swords wore upon their 
faces a settled expression of terror which 
was awful to witness. We saw hun- 



dreds of these poor creatures on the 
Selvi road a few days after their escape. 
Old and young alike seemed to have 
constantly before them the memory of a 
dread vision which could only pass 
away with death. They moved about 
listlessly : life no longer appeared real 
to them. It is not astonishing, for they 
had been far down into the Valley of the 
.Shadow. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



763 



CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN. 

Previous Insurrection in Bulgaria. — A Retrospect. — Servia's Aid to Bulgaria. — Russian Agents. — Tlio 
Triple Alliance— Rustchnk, Its Defence.— Turkish Transports. — The Road to the Balkans.— 
Gabrova. — Turkish Time. — Bulgarian Schools and their varying Fortunes. — Renegades. — The 
Passes of the Balkans. — Prince Tserteleff. — The Shipka Pass. — Mount St. Nicholas. — Suleiman 
Pasha and Radctzky. 



BULGARIA'S first insurrectionary 
movement, in lS(i - 2, not only as- 
tonished the Turks but greatly alarmed 
many civilized powers, who saw the 
danger of a general European war in 
this uprising of a people supposed to 
be thoroughly subjugated. The unhappy 
Bulgarians had been groaning under the 
Ottoman yoke so long, and seemed so 
powerless to help themselves, that even 
their kindred had begun to despise their 
seeming lack of courage. Nearly five 
hundred years had passed since the 
fertile plains at the slopes of the Balkans 
and the fat fields beside the Danube had 
fallen into Turkish hands ; yet during 
that long period the oppressed Slavs had 
done little or nothing to renew their 
vanquished glories or to justify their 
right to an independent existence. 
From the time of the seizure of Con- 
stantinople, in 1453, by the terrible 
Mohammed II., until the middle of the 
nineteenth century, the Turk encoun- 
tered no resistance from the natives of 
the land which he had invaded. Even 
the Austrians had done something 
toward the liberation of the Slavs ; the 
Bulgarians had done nothing. But at 
last the breeze of revolution passed over 
the prostrate people, and awoke them, 
as by enchantment, from their lethargy 
of ages. 

Servia had been inspired to resistance 
by the contemplation of Austria's many 



struggles with the Ottoman power on 
the banks of the Save, and by means of 
brilliant and tremendous popular efforts 
from 1800 until 1860 had succeeded in 
winning from the Forte an unwilling and 
imperfect recognition of her undoubted 
rights. In 1851 the Bulgarians, weighed 
down by the taxation of a merciless and 
alien government, made a weak attempt 
to revolt, but their crude conspiracies 
were crushed beneath the bloody heels 
of pashas and their brutal soldiers. At 
last, however, the decisive moment came, 
and the league known as " Young Bul- 
garia" was formed. The Servians gave 
it all the aid that they could without ex- 
posing themselves to the charge of par- 
ticipation in it, and the Roumanian 
authorities permitted it to hold meetings 
undisturbed in Bucharest. The Rus- 
sians were not backward in expressing 
their sympathies for their oppressed 
Christian brethren, and promised them 
arms and money. The noted Midhat 
Pasha, who afterward became a fugitive 
from his own. country, was then governor 
of Bulgaria. lie speedily discovered 
the conspiracy, and rightly attributed 
its origin to Servian influence. As he 
was known to be cruel and bloody- 
minded, nearly all the young men in 
Bulgaria tied into neighboring States; 
but Midhat succeeded in securing fifty- 
four, who were carried in chains to 
Rustchuk. Ten were hanged ; the rest 



764 



EUROPE /A" STORM AND CALM. 



were exiled. Midhat pretended to be 
moderate and clement, and endeavored 
to induce the fugitives to return ; lmt 
they with one accord manifested a 
singular indisposition to venture into his 
clutches. Very shortly afterward the 
hypocritical Midhat showed his true 
colors by taking violently from an 
Austrian steamer at Rustchuk two per- 
sons furnished respectively with Servian 
and Roumanian passports, but who had 
been denounced to him as agents of the 
"Young Bulgaria" committees, and 
causing them to be shot. This arbitrary 
act aroused the indignation of Europe, 
and the zealous Midhat was recalled 
from his post, the Porte consoling him, 
nevertheless, with the announcement 
that he was •• invited to higher func- 
tions." 

In June of 18G8 a formidable expedi- 
tion of insurgents was ready to enter 
Bulgaria, when the assassination of the 
reigning prince in Servia and the conse- 
quent confusion into which that province 
was thrown destroyed the needed unity 
of movement. The General appointed 
to the regency of Servia during the 
minority of young Prince Milan was 
unwilling to risk anything by aiding the 
Bulgarians. Despite this discourage- 
ment, an heroic little band of one hun- 
dred and fifty youths entered Bulgaria 
and marched toward the Balkans, trying 
to arouse the timid peasantry. After 
two or three sharp fights these young 
martyrs to the cause of liberty were sur- 
rounded in the mountains not far from 
the old town of Gabrova, and nobly per- 
ished to a man, not one of them consent- 
ing to lay down his arms. 

Then ensued another scries of years 
of apparent inaction. But the Bulgarian 
peasant was beginning to think, to hope, 
to dream, of independence. lie heard 
vaguely that the Austrians ami the Rus- 



sians were indignant at the manner in 
which the Turks treated their subjects ; 
that some day there would be a great 
war for Christian liberation ; that per- 
haps the powerful, although perturbed, 
rule of the Bulgarian Czars might be re- 
vived ; and that unceasing labor to pro- 
vide money and crops for the consump- 
tion of rapacious tax-gatherers was not. 
the chief end of man. Sometimes a 
Russian agent, who, despising the Turk, 
hardly took the trouble to disguise him- 
self, fanned the feeble flame in the 
peasant's breast, or aroused a vague en- 
thusiasm in the mind of the dull village 
priest, by hinting at. " crusades" to come. 
Russians were familiar figures to the 
Mussulmans, who knew very well that 
Muscovite officers had as early as 1840 
studied the great routes from Rustchuk 
to Adrianople, and from Widdin to 
Philippopolis, with especial view to the 
inarch of numerous army corps, and had 
carefully jotted down on war maps the 
names of even the most insignificant 
villages. The Austrian consuls sympa- 
thized openly with Bulgarian sufferers, 
and many a Turk spat upon the ground 
as he saw the representatives of Francis 
.Joseph passing to and fro. Those people 
who to-day wonder at the " triple alli- 
ance" have only to review the history of 
the century to discover that after 1848 
Austria ceased to afford the Turks the 
poor consolation of moral support, and 
was no longer an obstacle to the plans 
of Russia for Bulgarian redemption. 
The Austrians had been compelled in 
times past, to intervene ill Bosnia for the 
protection of Christians ; and they quite 
understood the motives which led Russia 
to make gigantic preparations for a war 
which might be long postponed, but 
which could not be averted. 

Purely local insurrections are easily 
suppressed in a country where the most 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



705 



horrible punishments may be inflicted 
without mercy. The Turks soon dis- 
covered that the Bulgarians had awakened 
into new life, and they forthwith began 
a reign of terror. The tax-gatherer was 
more exacting than before ; innocent 
people were murdered on the pretext 
that they were plotting against the gov- 
ernment ; and the wretched Slavs' cup 
of misery was full to running over, when 
a new sorrow came to them in the arrival 
of large bands of marauding and lawless 
Circassians, encouraged by the Porte to 
settle in Bulgaria, probably because it 
was expected that they would overawe 
the peasantry and spread a healthy fear 
throughout the towns. The outrages 
committed by these Mussulman Circas- 
sians — fiends in human form — seem in- 
credible when one hears them recited. 
The English Conservatives, when they 
heard of them, steadily refused to believe 
them, and to this day find it vastly 
amusing to laugh at the phrase, " Bul- 
garian atrocity." 

Despite Circassians, regular Turkish 
troops, bashi-bazouks, and all the forces 
at the disposition of the Sultan, the in- 
surrectionary symptoms of 1875-76 were 
fated to appear, and many Bulgarian 
notables were compromised. With what 
sanguinary tyranny these symptoms were 
put down, the unimpeachable testimony 
of Mr. Schuyler, Mr. MacGahan, and 
numerous other gentlemen has ac- 
quainted the world. The Circassians 
who violated maidens, and slew and 
burned innocent babes by hundreds at 
Batak, were akin to the murderers who, 
under Suleiman Pacha, after the Russian 
retreat from Eski Zaghra in 1877, 
slaughtered ten thousand innocent peas- 
ants. The assassins who burned scores 
of villages and dashed out the brains of 
helpless old men in the districts around 
Selvi and Gabrova after the last insur- 



rection was put down were the brethren 
of the followers of Osman Pasha, who 
buried little children alive at Loftscha 
and mutilated wounded men while the 
breath was still in them ; as also of the 
Kurds, who. at Shipka and Plevna, cutoff 
the heads of gasping soldiers, — an act 
of barbarism which in this century has 
been heretofore heard of onlv iii Central 
Asia, or among the savages on the 
Ashantee coast. 

Rustchuk, on the Danube, is an inter- 
esting although not a very pleasant place. 
I was there two days before the Russians 
crossed the Pruth, and was struck with 
the general air of decay and neglect in 
all the government buildings at the wa- 
terside. On the hill to the right as we 
came down the river I saw a huge camp, 
fortified and filled with men. Two 
months later, from the Roumanian side 
of the stream, I watched this same camp, 
and from the advanced Russian batteries 
I could see the Turkish soldiers peace- 
fully manoeuvring, as if the Muscovite 
were a thousand miles away, although a 
hurtling piece of iron soaring across the 
Danube to strike among the Moslems 
reminded them that the enemy was near 
at hand. When the war was first begun it 
was expected that a crossing might be at- 
tempted at Rustchuk. The Roumanians, 
who had not then found out their own 
strength, quaked as they thought of an 
incursion by yellow-dyed barbarians 
from Asia, and 1 dare say that the Turks 
were uneasy when they thought of Cos- 
sacks cantering through the streets of 
Rustchuk. As it happened the Turks 
were able to do little or nothing to cheek 
the advance of Russian troops by 
means of their heavy guns on the hills of 
Rustchuk. Thi' railway from Bucharest 
brought troops to a station called Ero- 
testi, quite out of reach of the Turkish 
cannon, and thence they took up their 



76G EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 

march at some little distance from the bered list of them, and indemnity was 
Danube's banks as far as Simnitza, required of the Turkish government 
where they crossed into Bulgaria. Land- before peace was concluded. ( Imar Pasha 
ward, the Turks defended Rustchuk made Rustchuk celebrated in 1854 by 
well, and after nine months of fighting the valiant and energetic manner in 
no <>ne of the fortresses composing the which he crossed the Danube from that 
famous quadrilateral was vet taken. town with forty-five thousand men, after 
On the whole, Rustchuk disappointed having driven the Russians from an 
me. I felt as it' I had a right to expect island where they were strongly en- 
more of Oriental atmosphere in this, the trenched. 

first Turkish town I had sel foot in. The From Rustchuk a road which must be 
railway with its noisy locomotives of- accounted good in a country where there 
fended mi' : it savored too much of West- are few decent highways leads through 
ei n Europe ; but the dark-faced, scowling Tirnova and < J-abrova to the Shipka Pass, 
men standing sleepily on the barges at in the Balkans, and across the moun- 
the wharves, brandishing bright guns tains to the rose-embowered villages of 
solemnly, as if in feeble protest at the Roumelia, and to Adrianople. Gabrova 
Russian advance, which they knew is as picturesque as Rustchuk is coin- 
would soon begin floundering in Rouma- monplace. From Tirnova. the road to 
nian mud, were certainly as unlike Eu- the Balkans leads across some mighty 
ropeans as human beings could well be. hills, from whose summits one catches 
They seemed perfectly willing to pass glimpses of beautifully cultivated vales 
their lives in listless and drowsy enjoy- below. The villages are few and unin- 
meiil of the sunshine and of the murmur viting : the khans are sometimes entirely 
of the great current. They did not even deserted, sometimes frequented by bul- 
manifest the slightest enthusiasm when locks, sheep, and goats in such numbers 
a little fleet of transports, bringing sol- that one prefers to sleep in the open air 
diers for Widdiu from Constantinople, rather than to undergo their companion- 
passed merrily up stream with blood-red ship. AtGabrova, whoever mounted to 
crescents on their flags and with white- the principal hall of tin' khan was com- 
rolied, sallow-faced Imaums solemnly pelled to pass through an incomparably 
parading among the soldiers squatted filthy stable, and to dispute passage with 
cross-legged on the decks. Verily, a rak- an elderly ram who occupied the lower 
ish crew was to lie found abroad on the step of the stairs during the heat of the 
Danube in those few days before the day as well as at night, and who fre- 
Russians arrived in Lower Roumania. quently was little disposed to disturb him- 
Many a quaint, old-fashioned Turkish self for strangers. But the private houses 
ship, looking like a galley of the fif- of the better class in Gabrova are cleanly, 
teenth century, and painted in glaring and sonic of them make pretensions to 
colors, was worked over to the lion- elegance. The town rambles along the 
manian shore in the night, and manv a hanks of the Yautra, which there brawls 
peaceful shepherd's cottage was invaded and lollies over broad, flat stones or 
by murderous Circassians. The murders bounds down into deep pools at the 
and robberies committed in this manner base of large, Mack rocks ; and some 
wen 1 so numerous that the Roumanian of the cottages appear to spring from 
minister of foreign affairs kept a mini- the very bosom of the stream. Stone 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



7<'7 



bridges span the water here and there, 
and clusters of houses with queer balco- 
nies and misshapen windows are tenanted 
by industrious artisans, who labor all 
day at the preparation of textile fabrics, 
for which Gabrova is famous. At night 
the rumbling of dozens of water-wheels 
is heard. Almost every house Is so placed 
as to enable its inhabitants to avail them- 
selves of a ••water-privilege." Every 
morning a long procession of Gabrova's 
prettiest maidens arrives at the Yantra, 
each girl loaded with the family wash- 
ing. The beauties tuck up their skirts 
and proceed to their work in the hearti 
est manner. Strangely enough, they are 
silent at their toil. I found this people 
in the neighborhood of the Balkans curi- 
ously devoid of animation on occasions 
when one would naturally expect it. In 
a market-place the women never chatted, 
ami the men seemed to joke in a weary, 
faint-hearted fashion. The same num- 
ber of persons in France or Spain would 
have made the heavens ring When 
the prisoners were brought down from 
the Shipka Pass into Gabrova, and. with 
their hands tied, were inarched over one 
of the bridges, with Bulgarians guarding 
them, there was no murmur either of 
exultation or execration among the Ga- 
brovans. Feeling was deep, but audible 
expression of it was lacking. 

The Bulgarians were always largely in 
the majority in this town of twelve or 
thirteen hundred houses, and the Turks 
had during the last two generations ac- 
corded it certain rights, although they 
had felt constrained to burn it no longer 
ago than 1798. Gabrova, by special 
clemency of the Grand Turk, was al- 
lowed bells in its churches, and facili- 
ties for founding schools were given the 
wealthy inhabitants. The happy Chris- 
tians had of course placed bells wher- 
ever there was the slightest pretext for 



doing so ; and nothing was more per- 
plexing to me than to hear a bevy of 
them ringing in the small hours of the 
night. Turkish time is three hours faster 
than that of Western Europe ; and I have 
been frequently awakened by a peal of 
bells sounding six, to find no one stirring 
in the town, and to hear nothing save the 
harmonious hum of distant water-wheels 
or the purling of the Yantra. 

But by four o'clock folk were astir. I 
do not speak of the Russian soldiers, who 
were coming and going at all imaginable 
times. It seemed as if now and then they 
were anxious to make their lines seem 
stronger than they were by going round 
and round, as supernumeraries do on the 
stage. But the towns-people came out a 
very long time before the sun did. The 
men, who seemed to sleep in their coarse 
black- caps, laid them off as they came 
to the stone fountains, where they washed 
their hands and faces. No sooner hail 
they shaken the water well about them 
than they lighted cigarettes and began 
talking listlessly. Presently they were 
compelled to make way for a crowd of 
bare-limbed girls, each bearing heavy 
buckets balanced on the ends of a slen- 
der pole ; then matrons with their ket- 
tles appeared ; and children were brought 
out and treated to vigorous duckings. 
The horses came next, and refreshed 
themselves leisurely while their guardians 
relighted innumerable cigarettes and 
lazily crossed their legs. Most of the 
artisan class, in appearance lazy, are 
really very industrious, and are seated at 
their looms or benches before daylight. 
Some of the streets of Gabrova are filled 
with small shops in which clay floors and 
grimy benches are the only embellish- 
ments. These are the workshops of* the 
artificers in gold and silver, who have 
always made the interiors of their estab- 
lishments as poor and uninviting as pos- 



70S 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



sible, in hopes that they might escape 
the rapacity of the Turk. Many of the 
goldsmiths buried all their really beau- 
tiful stork at the beginning of the war ; 
and their only fear was that if the Turks 
should beat the Russians and reenter 
Gabrova, they might try to force the 
Christians by torture to tell where their 
treasures were hidden. 

Bulgaria proper, with a population of 
three million one hundred thousand in- 
habitants, of whom ouly four hundred 
thousand were Mussulmans, had not a 
single school which could be called na- 
tional as late as 1835. In the Danubian 
region there were a few schools where 
the Greek language was taught, but it 
was not until the principal citizens of 
Gabrova took the initiative that the Bul- 
garian school system was introduced. 
Gabrova has kept the lead which it so 
gallantly took on that occasion, and in 
1871 had eight schools with fifteen hun- 
dred pupils. The teachers had a nar- 
row escape from a cruel fate not very 
long ago ; and the' story of the cause 
which led to their arrest and imprison- 
ment illustrates admirably the incurable 
negligence and bad faith of the Turks 
in the administration of their conquered 
provinces. The Central government had 
grudgingly consented to establish a postal 
service, as the commercial people of 
Gabrova asserted that it would make 
affairs much better; but the Turk ap- 
pointed to go and come with the mail 
spent his hours in inglorious ease, lolling 
on the divan of a cafi and smoking his 
pipe. This moved one of the teachers 
to reproach him bitterly, and to threaten 
him with exposure if he did not mend 
hi-- ways. The Turk at once complained 
to i hi' kaimakam, the local Turkish au- 
thority, that the Bulgarian teachers were 
all connected with the insurrectionary 
league, and that they were engaged in 



correspondence against the government. 
The pasha of Tirnova was notified, and 
at once ordered the closing of the Ga- 
brova. schools and the imprisonment of 
the instructors. It was only after long 
incarceration and great difficulties that 
the Bulgarian community succeeded in 
explaining matters. The offending niail- 
earrier was not even reprimanded by the 
Turkish officials. 

In the vicinity of Gabrova are numer- 
ous villages inhabited by the Pomatzy 
("renegades"), as they are called by 
the Christians. These worthies are de- 
scended from Bulgarians who embraced 
Mohammedanism because of some real 
or fancied slight of their patriarch. They 
are divided broadly into two classes — 
dangerous fanatics, who were especially 
troublesome during the Russian war, 
and mild Islamites, supposed still to 
have a weakness for Christianity. 
The villages of the Pomatzy are much 
like those of their Christian brethren. 
except that minarets abound in them, and 
that their neighborhood is usually haunted 
by brigands. The bashi-bazouks found 
refuge in the hamlets of the fanatical 
Pomatzy when they were hotly pursued 
by Radetzky's Cossacks, and if cornered 
speedily appeared in the guise of quiet 
and peace-loving farmers. 

The Balkans were so frequently men- 
tioned in the course of the Russian 
campaign in Turkey in Europe as a ter- 
rible obstacle to progress that even the 
Muscovites themselves had begun to be- 
lieve great sacrifices would lie necessary 
in order to cross them. Each of the sev- 
enteen practicable passes in this roman- 
tic and beautiful chain of mountains had 
been carefully studied at intervals in tiie 
last fifty years by Russian officers; and 

it was because the strength of the forti- 
fied positions in the Shipka Pass was 
well known that General Gourko, when 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



7G9 



he made his famous raid into Roumelia, 
preferred to work his way through a defile 
much less known and offering many more 
natural obstacles. Prince Tserteleff, 
the amiable and able young diplomat, 
who was charged with Russian inter- 
ests at Constantinople for a time, and 
who accompanied General Ignatieff on 
his tour to the principal European capi- 
tals just before war broke out. has the 
glory of having explored and recom- 
mended the passage through which 
Gourko made his raid, and after pass- 
ing which he was enabled to fall upon 
the rear of the Turkish positions at 
Shipka. The prince, who was a very 
young man, disguised himself as a Bul- 
garian peasant and went ahead, at, the 
risk of his life, to make sure both that 
the route was available and that the 
Turks did not discover the movements 
of Gourko's force. The adventure was 
completely successful. Here and there 
the little army came upon narrow paths, 
along which it was almost impossible 
to drag artillery, and now and then a 
cannon toppled into the ab\ - ss. But 
after severe struggle the column 
emerged on the fertile plains, and, had 
it been properly supported, would have 
carried consternation to the gates of 
Adrianople in less than six weeks. 

It is but a short ride from Gabrova to 
the picturesque heights where the fa- 
mous Shipka Pass commences, and from 
thence a rough road leads around the 
bases of frowning 1 summits and up hills 
until an elevation of a little less than 
five thousand feet is reached. The 
Turks had crowned every peak dominat- 
ing the road with well-built redoubts, 
and had stocked them with immense 
quantities of provisions and ammunition. 
All these stores, when the Mussulmans 
found themselves assaulted in front ami 
rear, fell into Russian hands. It is said 



that the pasha commanding the troops 
at one point was so alarmed at what he 

believed was a Russian advance from 
all sides that he put spurs to his horse 
and galloped away without even order- 
ing his men to retreat. 

Mount St. Nicholas, a vast irregular 
pyramid, rises abruptly from among the 
rolling hills, and seems an impregnable 
position. The Russians insisted that 
once in it the Turks could never get 
them out ; and at one time, when it 
was feared that some of Osman Pasha's 
troops would move forward from Loft- 
scha and endeavor to crush the feeble 
forces at Gabrova, Prince Mirsky, of 
the Eighth corps, had orders to retire 
to Shipka, and, shutting himself and 
his men up in the redoubts, to await 
reinforcements. It is as incomprehen- 
sible that the Turks should have aban- 
doned the eight splendid positions in the 
Shipka Pass as that they should have 
made no attempt to defend the defiles of 
the Yantra, near Tirnova, — positions 
where armed peasants might have 
checked the advance of the flower of 
European armies. 

A superb surprise awaits the weary 
horseman as he approaches the top of 
the pass. Turning to glance occasion- 
ally behind him he sees only ranges of 
dull hills clad in monotonous green, or 
perhaps fields of waving grain ; but, 
looking forward, In- suddenly has spread 
before him the ample panorama of ex- 
quisite Thrace, one of the gardens of the 
world, — a land where millions of roses 
distil their subtle perfumes upon the air, 
and where villages are embowered in 
vines and flowers. Shipka means "wild 
rose," and Shipka village, lying a long 
way down the descent on the Roumelian 
side, justifies its name. Yet here in this 
loveliest region, where nature seems to 
have lavished comfort upon man, in July 



770 



EUROrE IN STORM AND CALM. 



of 1877 such horrors were enacted although they as; 
that the stoutest heart quails even they could not 
at their reci- 
tal. Suleiman 
Pacha the Cruel 
swept with the 
besom of des- 
truction all 
those sections 
from which the 
Russia us were 
forced hastily to 
retire when the 
advance was ar- 
rested by the 
ominous appari- 
tion of ( tsman 
and his soldiers 
at Plevna and 
Loftscha. Sulei- 
man, fresh from 
the massacre of 

, BULGARIANS DEFENDING A MOUNTAIN PASS. 

W o 111 e II a II d 

babes, threw himself into the gorges Roumelia, where 
of Shipka, and sent his butchers by Russian troops 
to be butchered in their turn ; but, to surrender. 




aulfced ferociously, 
move the veteran 
Radetzky from 
his tracks. He 
drank his scald- 
ing tea morn- 
ing, noon, and 
night, anil held 
on valiantly 
against deatli 
and the devil 
until Gourko 
caossed the Bal- 
kans once more 
by passes quite 
as difficult as 
that which served 
him on the 
first occasion. 
Then Radetzky 
rose, and drove 
the Turks before 
him down into 
they were stopped 
and were compelled 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



771 



CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT. 

The Mutilation of the Russian Wounded. — A Convent for Women near Gabrova, and Bulgarian 
Monasteries. — Through the Balkans. — Kezanhk. — Rose Culture and the Rose Gardens. 
Eski Zaghra and the Massacre. — The Malice of Suleiman Pasha. — The Vengeance of the Agas. 
— The Bulgarian Army. — The National Life of the Bulgarians. 



THE story of the horrible mutilation 
of the Russian wounded in the 
Shipka Pass is pretty widely known, but 
an incident connected with it will serve 
to show what tierce pride some of the 
Asiatics took in their fiendish perform- 
ance. When the Russians occupied the 
positions which the Turks had abandoned 
late in July they found a number of 
bodies of both soldiers and officers dis- 
membered and treated in the most shock- 
ing manner. Arms, legs, heads were 
scattered about, and there was abundant 
proof that some of the wounded had 
been beheaded while living. Among the 
Turkish prisoners was a certain detach- 
ment of Kurds, who were tusked if they 
could throw any light on the subject of 
the mutilations. One or two denied all 
knowledge of it, but at last a soldier 
stepped out of the ranks and with rude 
joy announced that he had cut off one 
or two heads ; that most of his comrades 
had doth' the same thing, or would have 
had occasion offered ; and that he and 
others carried Russian heads, mounted 
on sticks, to the pasha, who made no 
remark whatever. Prince Mirsky in- 
formed me that on the day when these 
mutilated bodies were buried, and when 
the indignation against the Turks must 
necessarily have been very great among 
the rank and file, he saw Turkish 
wounded receiving most careful and 
patient attention at the hands of Rus- 
sian infantry-men not a hundred rods 



from the spot where the burial took 
place. 

On the slope, and not far from Ga- 
brova, is a convent for women, where 
the nuns lead a life quite different from 
the self-sacrificing existence of the Cath- 
olic devotee. They are at liberty to re- 
ceive whom they please, to engage in 
any industry which suits them, and to 
go into the world whenever they like. 
But a broad distinction must be made 
between these convents and those in 
Rounvania, which are in many respects 
a disgrace to the Church under whose 
patronage they are established. 

It has been remarked that the Rus- 
sians at first chose comparatiyely un- 
frequented and difficult passes in the 
Balkain chain, in order that they might 
surprise the enemy. But for the passage 
of the main army of occupation after the 
Turks were pushed back there were 
numerous good roads besides that by 
Shipka. One leads over the Travno- 
Balkan, as it is called, to routes which 
communicate with Kezanlik ; another, by 
which Osmau Pasha had hoped, in ease of 
disaster, to retire from Plevna and Loft- 
scha with his army, leads through the Bal- 
kan range by Trojan and Kalofer. This 
last-named pass is practicable only in a 
relative sense. The bones of horses that, 
have succumbed by the way strew the 
sides of the bridle-paths. The convent of 
Trojan, one of the most venerated of Bul- 
garian shrines, is accessible from the pass. 



EUROPE IN STORM AM) CALM. 



There forty or fifty monks live in ease 
and comfort, and cultivate fields for miles 
around, — fields which yield fat reve- 
nues. These Oriental monks thoroughly 
understand good living: their cells 
are fitted up with divans and carpets; 
they regale themselves with coffee and 
liquors; and mi the walls hang dozens 
of stent weapons, which are used in 
repelling the assaults of enterprising 
brigands or in securing game for the 
monastic larder. 

The most imposing and delightful part 
of the route through the Balkans by Tro- 
jan and Kalofer is the passage of the 
Rosolita, nearly six thousand feet above 
the level of the sea. Vast peaks, around 
which eagles hover, looking down with 
curiosity upon the adventurous travel- 
ler, rise into the air; below are yawning 
precipices, overwhose edges one can see 
yet other peaks with (heir tops wreathed 
in mist. The passes which lead out of 
Servia across the Balkans into Bulgaria 
have from time immemorial been infect- 
ed with brigands, and the guard-houses 
are surrounded by little cemeteries, which 
contain the remains of assassinated trav- 
ellers. Both the Servian and the Turk- 
ish governments pretended to keep strong 
military forces on these roads for the 
protection of the innocent, but the bashi- 
bazouks representing Turkey were gen- 
erally in league with the brigands, or 
with trifling temptations were capable of 
crime on their own account. 

Kezanlik, through which the tide of 
war swept rudely 7 , lies in a sweet, vale 
not far below the village of Shipka. 
On every side it is surrounded by gar- 
dens in which the delicate and beautiful 
rose of Damascus is cultivated expressly 

for the perfumes to be distilled from ii. 
On this side of the Balkans the villages 
have a more decidedly Turkish aspect 
than those between Gabrova and the 



Danube ; the houses are painted in 
tender colors, which harmonize delicious- 
ly with the landscape; and nearly every 
residence, rich or poor, has a little 

pleasaunce-ground attached to it, in 
which vines, rosebushes and fruit trees 
make a very agreeable shade. The 
many minarets, the latticed cages which 
denote " harems " in the Turkish quar- 
ter, the market-places, with their fantas- 
tical ranges of low wooden shops, — all 
remind one of the far Orient. Kezanlik 
was rich before the return of the Turks 
to it after Gourko's retreat, and many 
of the young Bulgarians engaged in 
commerce are men of intelligence and 
refinement. In conversation with one 
of them who was preparing to remove 
his merchandise by way of Bucharest 
to Vienna. I was surprised to hear him 
say that the " Bulgarian question " could 
be settled only by the retirement of the 
Mussulmans from the province. "The 
two races,*' he .said very emphatically, 
'• cannot live together on terms of 
equality such as any conference after 
the war would doubtless be willing to 
establish. The great majority of the 
Turks consider us as inferior animals, 
made to be oppressed by them and to 
serve them. They do not hate our 
religion, but they take advantage of the 
social inferiority which it imposes on us 
to rob us, to abuse us as any tyrannical 
invaders might, and to murder us when 
we resist. Even if there were any 
willingness on (heir part to agree tem- 
porarily to some amicable arrangement, 
they would not long keep their promise, 
anil our lives would be made wretched 
by revolution after revolution. In their 
eyes we are but dogs, unworthy of 
their attention save as servitors. This 
point of view must never be forgotten 
in estimating Turkish conduct in these 
provinces. The Turk desires distinctly 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



77.", 



to live by the product of our toil, and 
not to be in harmony with us. He must 
go, as he did from Servia, or there will 
he no peace for us." This gentleman 
also thought that unless the Russians 
should leave an occupying force large 
enough to enforce upon the Turkish 
population any measures supposed to he 
the natural fruit of the war they would 
have rendered hut a sorry service t<> 
Bulgaria. 

The very name Kezanlik commem- 
orates an injustice on tin- part of the 
Turks against which the inhabitants 
wire compelled to protest. Tradition 
recounts that long ago a sultan making 
a tour in the mountains saw a great 
number of children dressed in white 
robes coming to meet him, whereupon 
he cried out, " Nell isterler bou atclikia 
kezanlik?" (" Whatdo all these pretty 
babes in white gowns want, of me?") 
The last word in the sultan's sentence 
became the official name of the locality. 
But tradition dues not state what, answer 
the sultan made to the prayer of the 
children, fur they had come to tell him 
that because their fathers had been 
violently incorporated in the Turkish 
army their fields were uncultivated and 
their village was in ruins. Probably the 
sultan said that it was all Christian hum- 
bug, ami sent the children away with 
empty compliments. 

The men and women in the rose gar- 
dens in and around Kezanlik are of fine 
stature and graceful manners, and, al- 
though the women are rarely beautiful 
they possess that nameless charm born 
of perfect health and proud virtue. The 
distillation of the essence of ruses is a 
very simple process, both in the large 
establishments in the town ami in the 
farmer's own abode. Sometimes the 
still is erected in the shade "fa huge 
tree. Donkey-luads of flowers are 



brought to it, all day lung. The priest 
comes tn Mess Ihe Arcadian labor, and 
tu chat, with the women who strip the 
rose petals from their steins. As many 
as eighty thousand roses are often used 
in the preparation <if a single small flask 
of the precious odor. 

The thriving region extending fur 
miles around Eski Zaghra, the next, town 
of importance in this part of Bulgaria, 
was so utterly ruined by Suleiman's vin- 
dictive campaign that it must, remain a 
partial desert for many years. The sol- 
diers and the Mussulman peasantry aimed 
especially at, the destruction of the 
churches and schools in the villages near 
Eski Zaghra, as well as all Christian in- 
stitutions in the last-mentioned town. 
Every farmer was accused of having 
given aid and comfort to the Russians, 
and was massacred as sunn as caught, 
without, trial and without any semblance 
of justice. I doubt if there has been 
such wholesale slaughter — murder mi so 
large a. scab' — at any previous time in 
the present century. The testimony 
was unimpeachable. Thousands of fu- 
gitives straggled across the mountains 
in the first days of August, and spread 
the details of their misery throughout, the 
Yantra, valley. Gabrova and Tiruova 
were filled with motherless children and 
with childless mothers. A more piteous 
Spectacle than these poor wretches pre- 
sented as they made their way through 
the Shipka Bass could nut, he imagined. 
More than sixty villages in the plain 
near Eski Zaghra were burned : the pop- 
ulation had fled tn the large- town, 
thinking then- to secure protection from 
i\\r Russians or the fragments of the 
"Bulgarian Legion ;" but they found the 
Russians already preparing tu retire be- 
yond the Balkans. Those who remained 
were nearly all killed. The Bulgarian Le- 
gion fought as well as it could for the de- 



774 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

fenceof EskiZaghra, but wasof course no who had left their farms at the approach 

match for the trained troops of Suleiman of the Russians now gratified their de- 

— veterans who had been pitted against sire for vengeance bv massacring their 

the Montenegrins — even if those troops own Christian farm-laborers and tenants, 

had not been twenty times their number. They personally conducted soldiery to 

The Legion endeavored, when it found these farms, and enabled them to distill- 

that its ranks were rapidly thinned, to guish between Christian and Mussulman, 

retreat, protecting the population; but In the town of Eski Zaghra, where thirty 

Suleiman's artillery was brought to bear thousand Christians must have been 

on the fleeing women and children, and gathered that evening, the number of 

thousands were so frightened that they murders amounted to more than ten 

preferred to face death in the town rath- thousand. The Christian quarter was 

er than in the fields. As evening came fired, that the murderers mighl see to do 

on the poo]- Bulgarians began to take their work, and the miserable people saw 

courage, for the artillery fire had ceased themselves denounced by Turks who had 

and the battle seemed over; but they been their neighbors for years. The 

did not understand the devilish malice wounded were despatched with hatchets 

of Suleiman. He had surrounded the and rude stone hammers in the hands of 

town just as dusk fell (this was on the women. Schoolmistresses were sought 

thirty-first of July), and by means of an out, arrested, and I need not dwell upon 

endless chain of pickets made sure of the sad fate which awaited them. Mur- 

his prey. Nearly all who endeavored der finally released them from a captivity 

to get out were butchered, although a which was ten-hundred-fold worse than 

gentleman farmer, named Naumof, from death. Two beautiful young women, 

whom 1 received my account of the who had been highly educated and were 

Turkish conduct on this fearful night, es- the pride of the town, were murdered in 

caped some time after the massacre had the most revolting manner, and savagely 

begun. As soon as the sentinels were mutilated afterward. The inhabitants of 

placed Suleiman sent a force of Circas- Guneli-Mahlesi, of Radni-Mahlesi, of 

siaus, guided by Mussulman inhabitants Bech Tep<5, of Guneli, of Baghdan- 

— who hail tied from the Russian Mahlesi, populous fanning communities, 

advance, hut hail now returned with the were nearly all in Eski Zaghra, and most 

Turkish forces — to begin the work of of them perished there. On the day of 

murder. My informant was warned to this massacre I rode with Prince Mirsky 

escape bv a neighbor who. while in the and his stall' from Gabrova to Selvi, as 

loft of his own house, heard a noise in it was then supposed that the Turks 

the kitchen below , and was almost para- were advancing toward the latter place 

lyzed with terror on seeing two Circas- from Loftscha, and at Selvi we heard 

siaus pillaging there. .More .lead than plenty of tales of atrocities quite as 

alive, he managed to leap from a small awful as those which a few hours later 

back window, and gave the alarm to were echoed from Eski Zaghra. The 

Naumof. The screams of women were Bulgarians paid a terrible price for 

heard and flames were aiisiue- from Gourko's unsupported advance into 

burning houses as the two farmers fled Roumelia. 

together toward the mountains. The kaimakam of Eski Zaghra had 

The agas ami other Turkish notables the unparalleled effrontery two months 



EUROPE IS STOHM AXD CALM. 



775 



after the massacre to publish .1 state- 
ment which was sent out like a diplo- 
matic circular, from Constantinople, and 
which announced that the Bulgarians 
had fallen upon and murdered hundreds 
of Mussulmans in the foulest manner. 
It is unnecessary to add that this state- 
ment had 110 foundation in fact. 

That the Bulgarians were making an 
earnest effort to help themselves was 
visible during the hist weeks of my des- 
ultory tour in their war-ravaged country. 
The Russian troops at that time were- so 
few and so widely scattered that the 
Turks could readily have committed 
twice the havoc which they succeeded 
in doing. Indisposition to attack, bul 
great bravery, persistence, and skill in 
defending a place which they had them- 
selves occupied and fortified were the 
distinguishing features of the Turkish 
campaign on the Danube side of the 
Balkans at that particular period. Selvi, 
a threatened point, had not Russians 
enough in it to fight a small battalion 
until a. Turkish occupation seemed im- 
minent, when three or four thousand 
men were thrown hastily forward, leav- 
ing other important points uncovered. 
But at Selvi the Bulgarians were armed, 
roughly uniformed, hail placed strips of 
white linen ornamented with the cross 
over the red skull-caps which they had 
worn under Turkish domination, and 
were scouring the country for bashi- 
bazouks and Circassians. The least ru- 
mor placed every man mi the alert, and 
it was pleasant to see these men, who 
had been, in the estimation of the world, 
but cowering hinds for long centuries, 
suddenly asserting their right to inde- 
pendence. 

And why should they not he inde- 
pendent? The Bulgarians have :i history 
which will bear favorable comparison with 
that of many small nations who are much 



louder in their claims for immediate at- 
tention — the Roumanians, for example. 
Sprung from a stout Finno-Ural tribe, 
which made its name anil fame feared, 
and knocked at the gates of Constan- 
tinople more than once ; which fixed the 
residence of its kings at a point near the 
heights on which the virgin Mussulman 
fortress of Shumla, " the tomb of the in- 
fidel," stands to-day ; and which finally 
merged with the Slavic race, adopting 
Christianity and the Slavic idiom at the 
same time. — the Bulgarian of the pres- 
ent has no occasion to lie ashamed of 
his origin. In the struggles with Byzan- 
tium, both before and after the savage 
had become a. Christian, and had estab- 
lished a rude literature, the Bulgarians 
appear to have had the advantage quite 
as often as the Greek emperors had. It 
is not a little curious that the first time 
the Russians, or people from the terri- 
tory now Russian, entered Bulgaria, it 
was to aid Byzantium against the Fin- 
no-Bulgarian power in 9G3, and to fight 
a battle near Adrianople which enabled 
the Greek emperor to subjugate his 
formidable enemies. Then the Russian 
prince, who had brought down his forces 
to aid in punishing the Bulgarians, did 
not wish to leave the country, and the 
Greek emperor was compelled to drive 
him out. The history of the second and 
third Bulgarian dynasties — for the 
national life revived under a, new form 
iil'ter two severe trials, during which its 

enemies fancied that they hail crushed 
it, — the history of these dynasties is 
filled with records of alternate triumphs 
and humiliations. There is but one 
epoch in the annals of the Bulgarians 
when they seem to have leaned toward 
the ( hurch of Rome, and that was in the 
days of Pope Innocent III., who sent 
legates to stir them up against the 
schismatic Greeks. The story of the 



776 EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 

refusal of Baldwin I., Latin emperor of to facilitate its development into a 

Constantinople, to aid the Bulgarians in strong state. 

their proposed campaign against these The assertion that the Turks have 
Greeks is familiar to students of his- never used any portion of the money 
tory. Great misfortunes befell Baldwin which they wring annually from the 
because of this refusal ; for the Bui- Christians in Bulgaria for improvements 
Erarians joined with the very Greeks useful to the Bulgarians themselves is 
whom Pope Innocent had excited them susceptible of proof. The road into 
against, captured Baldwin and his army Roumelin by way of Shipka was almost 
in a great fight at Adrianople, and impassable for years, but one line day 
finally put him to death with cruel the sultan wished to make a species of 
tortures at Tirnova, where the tomb of triumphal journey to Silistria, so the 
the wretched monarch is still pointed route was put in order. If any money 
out. Tirnova was long the residence of were expended in public works, those 
the Bulgarian czars, and was mercilessly works were sure to be of a military 
sacked by the Turks when they took it character, and did not profit the 
in 1393. The Turk came into a section Christians a particle. Turkish authority 
of Europe which was so divided between lias frequently prevented Bulgarians 
numerous nationalities, already ex- from making improvements even at their 
hausted by struggles against each other, own expense, and any stranger propos- 
that lie hail an easy task in subduing ing the introduction of commercial en- 
tire Bulgarians. terprise was pretty certain to suffer in 

One of the bugbears which the enthu- some fashion, 
siastie patriots who formed the league The great abuses in taxation in this 
of '"young Bulgaria " fancied that they fertile province sprang out of a system 
found in their way was a tendency on planned with marvellous cunning. In 
the part of their population to emigrate the cities and large towns the collection 
to Servia, and for a long time it was of taxes was conducted with some show 
feared that nearly all the farmers would of fairness. Each community being 
desert to the neighbor state. The Sea-- divided into mahedes, or " quarters," in 
vians ware naturally willing to take which Turks, Christians, and Jews lived 
advantage of such a feeling; 1ml now by themselves, the "chief" of each 
that Bulgaria has a chance for her quarter fixed the amount of the tax and 
autonomy, her farmers and artisans are collected it. lint the unfortunate people 
not at all anxious to desert her. Thou- in (he villages and farmers in remote 
sands of stout fellows who have been country districts were not allowed such 
in the habit of working in Hungary, favors as this. Numbers of districts 
Roiunania, and Servia every summer and were consolidated, and -'sold out" by 
autumn will now devote their energies order of the government at public 
to building up homes for themselves in auction for a large sum. The people 
•heir native land. Bulgaria has rich who paid this sum to the government 
soil, a people admirably adapted for were always Mussulmans, and they 
highly intelligent agriculture: and now exercised no mercy in collecting tin- 
it needs only roads, schools, and rail- money, crops and stock necessary for 
ways — in short, precisely that which it their reimbursement. They might col- 
can never obtain under Turkish rub — iect fourfold the amount justly due : the 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



777 



government would say nothing, having 
been paid. Or even if some authority 
were inclined to examine into the com- 
plaints of the wretched Bulgarians, a 
share of the ill-gotten gains of the plun- 
derers soon stilled the official's meagre 
sense of justice. The peasant might 
become proprietor of land in various 
wars, although the whole country was 
recognized as being the personal prop- 
erty of the sultan. But whenever a 
pasha or an envious Turk wished to 
acquire a farm which a Bulgarian had 
been laboriously developing for years, 
he had but to signify his wish, and for a 
small sum the fanner was compelled t'> 
see the fruit of his labor pass into the 
hands of another. This proceeding had 
become so common in Bulgaria during the 
last few years as to have excited numer- 
ous indignant remonstrances from Euro- 
peans inhabiting the country. In time 
of war there was no end to oppression 
by thi' Turks. It might literally lie said 
that Christians had no rights, and that 
if they had possessed any they would 

not have Keen respected. 

All these things may be spoken of as 
in Hie past, for it is reasonably certain 
thai (lie Bulgarians will never again sub- 
mit to Turkish taxation. When I left 
Gabrova a blonde-bearded Russian who 
had come directly from a Central Asian 
campaign to aid in transforming Bulga- 
ria was equipping trustworthy peasants 
with guns and badges, and delegating 
lo them authority as police-agents in 
the various villages in the neighborhood. 
Life and property were soon to become 
sab' in a region where Christians had 
not heretofore known the blessings of 
the security which is the fruit of just and 
well-executed law. The Russians were 
as methodical and, earnest in their labors 
as if they intended to lix Muscovite 
power for ages in the country : and it 



was difficult to understand that they in- 
tended to withdraw after the conclusion 
of a satisfactory peace. 

From Selvi I went forward in the di- 
rection of Loftscha, but found that Prince 
Mirsky had ordered the troops to go into 
intrenchments, which indicated a delay 
of many days before active operations 
were likely to begin. As I rode across 
country through dozens of Mussulman 
villages, some of which contained as 
many as eight thousand inhabitants, 
alarms were frequent, but generally 
causeless. In a Christian village, set 
down oddly enough in the very centre 
of a district inhabited almost entirely 
by followers of the Prophet, I found 
the whole population under arms and in 
a state of intense excitement because of 
the rumor that a large force of Turks 
had been seen in the adjacent mountains. 
The chief of the village had caused the 
arrest of two travelling peasants sup- 
posed to be spies, and the visages of 
these worthies as they sat upon the 
ground waiting until the villagers could 
find time to shoot them were not pleas- 
ant to contemplate. The madman of 
the hamlet had felt it his duty to join in 
the affair, and as I rode up be came car- 
acoling and gambolling out of a field, 
stark naked, with his head crowne'd with 
straw- and wild-flowers, and chattering as 
fiercely as an enraged ape. The insane 
are allowed to wander thus unmolested 
in Bulgaria, as in some parts of Spain. 
I have rarely seen a figure at once so 
picturesque and terrible as this miser- 
able creature. 

The Turkish villagers were civil 
enough, probably because strong de- 
tachments of Russian troops occasion- 
ally passed over the road, although in 
my ride of sixty miles 1 saw only one 
officer and four Cossacks. Several col- 
lections of bashi-bazouks, guarded by 



77S 



EUROPE IX STORM AXD CALM. 



the newly-organized Christian police, 
passed me, their hands tied behind their 
backs and their faces testifyingto a proud 
disdain. Their gayly-colored garments 
were tattered, and their ample collec- 
tions of weapons, carried in carts behind 
the processions of prisoners, indicated 
that a general raid upon this murderous 
gentry had been organized. Most of the 
villagers disclaimed any knowledge of 
their movements, and hastened to give 
us proofs of their good-will by offering 
us water and fruit and by saying pleas- 
ant things. Their superb corn, such as 

one sees elsewhere only ill America, had 

been left untouched by the Russians; 
but the watermelons and pumpkins had 
all vanished from the crawling vines, 
the soldier finding the temptation greater 
than he could resist. 

I arrived near Tirnova in the middle 
of the night, and while my horse was 



slowly picking liis way across the pretty 
range of hills which hems in the Yantra, 
a gray-coated sentinel started out from tin' 
hushes near a smouldering watch-fire and 
bade me halt. The " Svoi'" — " Yanis" 
given in return did not seem to satisfy 
him, hut alter a careful examination I 
was allowed to pass on down into the val- 
ley between odorous thickets from which 
thousands of fire-flies sent forth their fit- 
ful gleams; down to a plateau whence 
I could see the lights of Tirnova, like 
myriads of stars hoveling close to earth ; 
down to to the camp, whence came up the 
old Homeric hum so impressive after the 
stillness of the country bridle-paths and 
the forests over and through which I had 
just passed. 

Meantime the great battle which had 
been fought mar Plevna had checked 
the advance of the Russians. They 
proposed, but Osman Pasha disposed. 



EUROrE IN STORM AND CALM. 



779 



CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE. 

Plevna and its Influence on the Russian Campaign. — The Roumanians. — Their Valor in the Field. — 
Osman Pasha. — The Despair of Skobelcff. — Across the Balkans. — The Descent Upon Con- 
stantinople. — Hostility of England to Russian Designs. — The Berlin Congress. — Its Result.— 
The Partition of South-Eastern Europe. 



THE picturesque and heroic incidents 
of the Ensso-Turkish war are still 
too fresh in the minds of all to require a 
detailed recital here. After the appear- 
ance of Suleiman Pasha upon the scene 
it seemed as if the title had begun to 
turn against the crusading Russians. 
The taking of Loftcha by the Turks; 
the march of Gen. Gourko to Yeui- 
Zaghra, and the capture of the town ; 
the defeat of the newly -organized 
Bulgarian Legion at Eski-Zaghra ; the 
retreat of Gourko to the northei n 
side of the Balkans ; the fortifica- 
tion of the Shipka and the HainkoV 
Passes ; the terrible atrocities com- 
mitted by the Turks upon the helpless 
Russian wounded ; the sudden develop- 
ment of a formidable military force out 
of the heretofore derided and underesti- 
mated Roumanian army ; the siege of 
Plevna, with its fearful losses and its 
protracted miseries, — all these things 
rang throughout Europe, and had their 
echoes in America. The Russians had 
already begun to exercise their sover- 
eignty in Bulgaria, had proclaimed laws 
exempting the Christians from odious 
taxes, had abolished tithes, and were 
gradually substituting themselves for the 
Turkish authorities, when the severe 
check in front of Plevna changed the 
whole character of the campaign. It is 
said that the loss of the Russians in 
killed, wounded, sick, and prisoners, 
during the actions of the 19th, 20th, and 



21st of July, and in tin' great battle of 
the .'list before Plevna, amounted to 
more than ten thousand men. The 
heroic Gen. Skobeleff — one of the few 
men of genius in the Russian army — 
did prodigies of valor in these fights. 
but all in vain. 

The critics who say that the Russians 
had, in their descent into Bulgaria, be- 
lieved that the Turks would offer only a 
slight resistance, are quite correct. The 
Russians crossed the Danube with in- 
sufficient forces, and during all the 
early weeks of the campaign they saw 
so few Turks and encountered so little 
opposition that they fancied they could 
go straight to the gates of Constanti- 
nople without more than an occasional 
skirmish. Plevna was not only a great 
surprise, it was a veritable disaster. 
The consternation in Roumania was 
frightful after the news of the defeat of 
the Russians, but this news had for its 
effect the awakening of the valiant 
Roumanian people into an energy which 
they had not even suspected themselves 
of possessing. When it looked as if the 
Russians were about to lie annihilated, 
that the forces in Bulgaria would be 
cut off from the Danube, and that the 
Turks would cross the historic stream 
and invade the principalities which had 
so long been independenl of them, the 
Roumanian government rose to the emer- 
gency. But the Russians sat quietly 
down and took the defensive, and sent 



780 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

home for one hundred thousand men, been such obstinate and well disputed 

who were soon on their way. The posi- fields. Osman Pasha had succeeded, 

tions in front of Plevna were strongly since the occupation of Plevna in .Inly. 

fortified and armed with artillery; com- in turning a simple village into an elab- 

panies of cavalry were dispatched on orate fortress, bristling with redoubts 

independent expeditions, with Hie view and trenches. The Russian wave swept 

of blocking the passes through the up from time to time against these for- 

Balkans, and the Russians were greatly midable defences, only to be swept back 

encouraged by the failure of the Turks again. Skobeleff wore out his heart in 

to assume the offensive in any important heroic, but always reckless endeavors. 

degree. Meantime the emperor of to break the Turkish lines. On the 11th 

Russia lived in the most unostentatious of September there was a great Russian 

manner in the little village of Gorny attack on Plevna. A temporary success 

Studen, suffering privation and discom- was. however, followed by an ultimate 

tort with that excellent temper and defeat of Kriloff's and Krudener's ili- 

entire lack of affectation which char- visions. This '•battle in the mists" 

acterized the man. Suleiman Pasha, was described by an eye-witness as 

thundering at the gates of Shipka e of the most, thrilling and terrible 

attempted in vain to dispossess of the whole campaign. "Along the 
the Russians of their hold on the Bal- course of the Radisovo range," wrote the 
kaus, making upwards of one hundred brilliant and courageous Mr MacGahan, 
distinct attacks in less than seven days. — who was destined not to survive the 
When the mouth of August closed, in fatiguing campaign, hut to die in a hos- 
1.^77. the fortunes of the Russians had pita] at Constantinople, — ••the Russian 
improved. They rallied from the check guns could be perceived at work with 
received at Plevna ; they held their own figures flitting round them, dimly seen 
at the Balkans; reinforcements were through the smoke, strangely magnified 
appearing, and new operations were by the intervention of the fog, until the 
resumed with vigor. The Russo-Rou- gunners appeared like giants, and the 
inauian army, commanded by Prince guns themselves, enlarged and distorted 
Charles, of Roumania, now sat down by the same medium, seemed like huge, 
before the important positions at Plevna, uncouth monsters from whose throats 
and sustained a furious attack by Osman at every instant leaped forth globes of 
Pasha on the last day of August. This flame. There were moments when 
was one of the most sanguinary com- these Hashes seemed to light up everv- 
bats of the campaign. The Russians thine, around them ; then the guns and 
and Roumanians both fought with gunners appeared for an instant with 
desperate valor, and Osman, who had fearful distinctness, red and lurid, as if 
expected to (hive the enemy from all tinged with blood. Then they sank back 
his positions, was compelled to admit again into shadowy indistinctness. The 
his complete failure. uproar of the battle rose ami swelled 
The September combats in front of until it became fearful to hear — like 
Plevna are famous, ami reflect the the continuous roar of an angry sea beat- 
greatest credit on the courage of Turks, ing against a rock-bound coast. coin- 
Roumanians ami Russians. Rarely in biued with that of a thunder-storm, with 
the history of the century have there the strange, unearthly sounds heard on 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



i81 



board a ship when laboring in a gale." sword broken, his decorations twisted on 
In the contest of this day General his shoulders, his face black with pow- 
Skobeleff's splendid fighting added new der and smoke, his eyes bloodshot, and 
lustre to his already phenomenal reputa- his voice broken. When asked the rea 
t ion. No obstacle seemed to daunt son of the disaster, he said no reinforce. 
linn ; nothing could frighten him. Even ments had been sent him, and added, "I 
after the Russians had fallen away from blame nobody ; it was the will of God." 
the terrific fire of the Turkish redoubt The Roumanians had meantime taken 
Skobeleff rallied 
the stragglers 
and carried them 
forward into the 
very enemy's 
lines ; his own 
sword was cut 
in two in the 
middle, while he 
was leaping a 
ditch; his horse 
shotdead under- 
neath him, and 
he rolled i n t o 
the ditch, but 
sprang to his 
feet with a shout, 
and finally led 
the mass of 
men over the 
ditch, scarp and 
con nters carp 
and parapet, and 
into the redoubt. 

This little affair cost Skobeleff two and held the redoubt ; but the attack on 
thousand men in killed and wounded, or Plevna, as a whole, was a disastrous 
one-quarter of bis whole attacking force, failure. This attack had cost, in a, few 
The wonderful manner in which he es- days of fighting, twenty thousand men. 
.■aped all harm confirmed the belief The Roumanian army had no surgical ar- 
amongst his men that he bore a charmed rangements, and the wounded were left 
life. On the afternoon of the 12th he to die for the want of ministering hands. 
was compelled to suffer defeat. The The Russian medical and sanitary staffs 
redoubt which he won at such terrible were quite inefficient in presence of this 
cost was deserted by the Russians in the tremendous drain upon them, and the 
presence of an overwhelming force soldiers looked forward to the horrors of 
brought to hear against them, and Sko- a winter campaign with shuddering fear. 
beleff came out of the linal tight with his The dead left neglected on the battle- 
clothes covered with mud and tilth, his fields were mutilated by the. Turkish 




EPISODE OP THE SIEGE OP PLEVNA. 



782 



EUROPE l.\ STORM AND CALM. 



irregulars, and the wounded subjected to 
the most atrocious cruelties while the 
breath of life was leaving them. When 
September closed m> one could have 
prophesied that the Russians would suc- 
ceed in driving the Turks from their 
stronghold, and the enemies of Russia 
boldly announced the complete failure 
of the campaign for the relief of the 
Christians in the East. The Russian 
emperor maintained his head-quarters at 
Gorny Studen, leading an active life, 
devoting the morning to current affairs, 
having about him only a little suite of 
fifty officers, working late at flight, and 
being awakened for the telegrams ar- 
riving from the capital, although they 

came lone after the small hours. 

Early in October the Russian rein- 
forcements had arrived in Bulgaria, but 
Osman Pasha had also received new 
forces. By and by the Imperial Guard 
had a serious brush with the enemy, 
which resulted in the capture of a posi- 
tion completing the investment of Plevna. 
Four hundred siege-guns were planted 
about the town. Skobeleff resumed his 
old daring activity; General Todleben 
conducted the siege with marked ability ; 
Russian cavalry, scouring the roads to 
the southward, captured the supplies 
which Osman Pasha needed lor his 
hungry troops. At the beginning of 
November the length of the investing 
line was said to lie thirty miles, occu- 
pied by an army of one hundred and 
twenty thousand men. Autumn faded 
into winter; the suffering was great in 
all the armies, the bad management of 
the Russian camps contributing greatly 
to the mortality on the Russian side. 
In November came the expedition of 
General Gourko into the Balkans, the 
great and dangerous passage over the 
mountains, the evacuation of Etropol by 
tin' Turks, and finally, in December, the 



last great effort of the Turkish army to 
break through the investing lines, its 
furious encounter with the Russians and 
the Roumanians, followed by negotia- 
tions for a surrender. Plevna was at 
the end of its resources. The Emperor 
and his suite had been summoned in 
haste to the mount of Radisovo, where 
they witnessed the failure of Osman 
Pasha's attempt to Secure his liberty. 
The attempt to break through the Russo- 
Rouinanian lines lasted about six hours. 
cost (he Turks five thousand men in 
dead and wounded, and from thirty 
thousand to forty thousand as prisoners 
of war. The Russian loss in this latest 
battle was only about fifteen hundred. 
Tin' Turkish commander was highly 
complimented by the Grand Duke Nich- 
olas and all the members of his staff, 
and by Prince Charles of Roumania, on 
his gallant defense of Plevna. It is 
thought that Osman Pasha supposed 
General Gourko to have weakened the 
Russian investment-line by taking away 
so many men when he started on his 
expedition across the Balkans. It is 
also said that the Turkish General had 
received imperative orders to light his 
way through the lines at any cost. 

The statistics of the combating forces, 
published at the time, indicate that Rus- 
sia and Roumania had an effective of 
one hundred and nineteen thousand 
men, with live hundred and fifty-eight 
held guns. The forces iu the' Balkans 
numbered thirty thousand men. with one 
hundred and sixty-two guns. The army 
of the Lorn, commanded by the (,'zare- 
witch, had seventy-three thousand men. 
with four hundred and thirty-two guns ; 
and the forces in the Dobrudscha and 
Eastern Roumelia comprised thirty-eight 
thousand men, with four hundred and 
forty guns. The Turks had, in "West- 
cm Bulgaria, ninety-two thousand men, 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



783 



with one hundred and thirty-two guns, 
and in these are included the army of 
Osiuan Pasha taken by the Russians; 
and in addition to these were about four 
thousand irregulars, who did most of the 
mutilating and slaughter of the wounded. 
The Turkish forces in the Balkans 
amounted to twenty-two thousand men, 
with seventy-six guns, a number of mor- 
tals, and a horde of fanatical irregulars ; 
and, finally, one hundred and thirty-Dve 
thousand men in the Quadrilateral and 
the Dobrudscha, with three hundred and 
eighty-six guns, and fully sixty thousand 
irregulars. 

By this time English opinion was 
greatly excited against Russia, and 
prophecies were constantly made in 
Great Britain that the Russians would 
never succeed in getting over the Bal- 
kans and on their way to the fertile 
slopes of Roumclia, although they had 
smilingly broken the strongest resist- 
ance to their advance upon the Turkish 
capital. 

Plevna fell on the 9th of December, 
1*77. The Russians had been victorious 
in Asia. Suleiman Pasha had received 
a severe defeat in his assault on the 
lines of the Czarewitch, and there was 
great consternation in the Turkish capi- 
tal. The new Sultan went through the 
farce of opening the Turkish Parliament, 
gave an address from the throne as if ho 
had been a veritable constitutional sover- 
eign ; indulged iii moderate language 
about the revolt of his provinces, and 
indicated his disbelief that they would 
succeed in permanently wresting them- 
selves from his grasp. Meantime the 
Servians had again taken up arms and 
were vigorously pushing the disheartened 
and broken Turkish forces along their 
frontier. Europe was indisposed to 
mediate in favor of the preservation of 
Turkey, although England used her best 



interests to secure such mediation. The 
Czar of Russia returned through Bucha- 
rest, where lie had a most imposing re- 
ception, and through the cities of South- 
ern Russia to St. Petersburg, where, in 
the great Kazan Cathedral, he was re- 
ceived by the Metropolitan, and stood 
before the ( I rand Altar to give thanks 
for the victory which seemed likely to 
liberate the Slavs. Imposing ceremonies 
lasted several days. The Emperor com- 
memorated the centennial of the birth of 
his uncle, Alexander 1., and made a pil- 
grimage among the tombs of his ances- 
tors, kissing the marble of each shrine. 
Commemorative medals, struck for the 
occasion, were laid upon the tombs. All 
Russia was in joy. Prince Gortschakoff 
remarked that if England wanted war 
she would have to declare it, and if she 
wanted peace she would have to wait for 
it, — concise and frosty definition of the 
situation at that time, which would, per- 
haps, have served admirably for a de- 
scription of the situation in the spring of 
1885. 

The winter campaign of the Rus- 
sians in the Balkans and across them 
was a memorable feat of arms. The 
terrible snow-storms, the breaking of 
the pontoon-bridges over the Danube, — 
which were the only connection that 
the Russians had with their base of 
supplies, — the inefficiency of the trans- 
port system, the difficulties of marching 
thousands of shivering Turkish prisoners 
onward and across the great plains, the 
destitution which followed in Russia as 
a natural consequence of the great saeri- 
iice for the prosecution of the war, — all 
these gave much hope to the enemies of 
Russia, who had now set themselves vig- 
orously to work to [ire vent the northern 
[lower from reaping the reward of her 
energy and bravery. General Gourko's 
advance over the Balkans, his descent on 



<S| EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

the southern side, the surprise and the but an edifice riddled with bullets, inca- 

dis iragement of the Turks, — allthese pable of defense. 

things have been ably chronicled by the At this juncture England threw her 
brilliant correspondents who accompa- shadow across tin- Russian advance, 
nied the expedition, by men like Millet An Englishman of talent. Baker Pasha, 
and MacGahan. General Gourko swept was openly aiding scattered remnants of 
down upon the town <>f Sophia, when' Suleiman's army in such resistance as 
he was nut by thousands of citizens led they were in condition to make. The 
by priests with banners, crucifixes, and British Parliament was wild with exeite- 
lanterns. One of the priests carried a ment, and £6,000,000 sterling was voted 
salver with bread and salt. For the as a possible war credit by an enthusias- 
lirst time since 1434 a Christian army tic majority. The Conservative party 
was within the walls of the ancient town, clearly defined its policy of at all iiaz- 
Orders had been sent from Constantino- aids preventing Russia occupying Con- 
pie to burn Sophia and to blow up the stantinople, and of undoing-, so far as 
mosques ; but this order was not heeded, possible, the results of her crusade. 
Nor was there time to execute such or- Turkey was not to be destroyed; the 
der. Meantime the Servians were sue- •• sick man" of Europe was to be pre- 
cessful. The frontier town of Nisch served from his impending dissolution. 
surrendered. Gen. Gourko renewed his London was stormy with rumors of war; 
advance towards Constantinople ; Philip- the Jingo taction sang songs, and be- 
popolis was abandoned, — Philippopo- smirched Mr. Gladstone with indecent 
lis. which might have been occupied in refrains in music-halls. An armistice 
August of 1877 if the Russians had was concluded; but the Russians con- 
been in force to crush the intruding tinned their advance, and set up a claim 
Osman Pasha when he first appeared at to take back the portion of Bessarabia 
Plevna. ceded to Moldavia in 185G, — a claim 
The heroic valor of Fuad Pasha was which greatly dissatisfied their Rouma- 
of little avail ; the Turkish army under nian allies. Turkey was evidently pow- 
his command was defeated and dispersed, erless in Russia's hands, and it. was then 
At the same time through the Shipka that the English determined to send a 
Pass came Gen. Radetzky, Suleiman British fleet to the Dardanelles, to force 
Pasha's army was annihilated, and there a passage there if necessary, and to anchor 
were proposals for an armistice. Greece their ships in sight of Constantinople. 
was agitate! ; (here was an insurrection When the Russians heard that the 
in Thessaly ; European Turkey was (lis- Ihitish were about to send a detachment 
appearing like " the baseless fabric of a of the Mediterranean licet to afford 
vision." Adrianople was next aban- protection, in case of need, to English 
doned by the Turks, and. while peace subjects residing in that city, they an- 
aegotiations dragged slowly forward, the nounced that for precisely the same 
Russians went with confident and swift object they had in view the entry into 
step to the gates of the Turkish capital. Constantinople of part of their troops. 
Turkish troops were concentrated at Gal- Needless to say that this Russian sug- 
lipoli ; the Servians and Montenegrins, gestion was received with great disfavor 
grown bolder, won numerous victories, in England, and that it strengthened the 
Turkey in Europe was no longer anything war party's hands in that country. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



785 



Presently the head-quarters of the 
Grand Duke Nicholas, as commander of 
tlic Russian armies, was removed from 
Adrianople to San Stefano, where the 
Russians were only twelve miles from 
the Turkish capital, on the Sea of Mar- 
mora, and where it was proposed to 
consult as to the signature of the treaty 
of peace. General Ignatieff, the able 
Russian ambassador to the Porte, who 
had had complete power over the unfor- 



in the south -east of Europe was extreme. 
•' If," says a recent writer, " the treaty 
of San Stefano had been allowed to 
stand, the next step in the southward 
march of Russia — namely, the acquisi- 
tion of Constantinople — would have 
been even more facile than it is now. 
So easy and certain, indeed, that Russia 
could well have afforded to wait until, in 
a generation or two, the step could be 
taken with much less fear of awakening 




SIGNING THE TREATY OF SAN STEFANO. 



tunate Sultan Abdul Aziz, was the 
principal Russian agent for the negotia- 
tion of the treaty. The arrival of the 
Russians in San Stefano wa.s intended 
as a counter demonstration to the pres- 
ence of the British fleet in the Sea of 
Marmora. Peace was signed on the 3d 
of March. 1878, in a little valley by the 
sea-side, — a valley from which the 
minarets of the ancient mosque of St. 
Sophia, ia Constantinople, could be seen. 
The excitement in England over this 
consecration of the victories of Russia 



European fears or exciting their jealousy. 
No wonder so sweeping a revolution as 
that effected by the treaty of San Stefano 
fell like a thunderbolt on the nations, 
and caused a feeling of general distrust. 
With blood-dropping sword and battered 
harness the gigantic figure of Muscovy 
strode over the prostrate and gasping 
Turk; but in the distance, behind the 
dispersing mists of war, stood the Powers 
of Europe which had an interest in the 
final settlement, and chief amongst them 
the enormous force of England." 



786 EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 

The Berlin Congress grew out of this Germany, Austria, Hungary, France, 
influence of England, whose conserva- Great Britain, Italy, Russia and Turkey 
live forces were so ably marshalled by had scut, plenipotentiaries to lie seated 
Beaconsfield ; but the proposition that round a green table in the Radziwill 
the Congress should meet in Berlin came Palace, which was at that time occupied 
from Austria. Lord Beaconsfield hail by Prince Bismarck. Representatives of 
determined to call out the English re- Greece, Roumania, and Servia, waited 
serves; warlike preparations were at the doors of Congress, in the hope that 
abuudaut throughout Great Britain, but they might lay their claim before this 
moii 1 difficulty was found in mobilizing diplomatic parliament. The Jews h id 
an efficient army of a size competent to sent an important delegation to plead 
cope with the great forces afield on the their cause. The three great Premiers 
holders of the Orient. The English of Europi — Bismarck', Gortschakoff, 
claimed that they could, within three and Beaconsfield — were each at that time 
months, or a shorter time, if necessary, suffering from severe indisposition, 
despatch from their shores an army of Gortschakoff was crippled with gout; 
one hundred thousand men in the highest Bismarck had just risen from a sick-bed, 
state of efficiency. " The facility with where he was placed from exhaustion 
which we can shift our base and move at from overwork, and Beaconsfield was 
pleasure by sea," said the "Times," "at obliged to repose every hour in which he 
least doubles the military power of Eng- was not engaged in the deliberations of 
land." Despite the signature of peace, the Congress. On the 13th of June, 
the Turks were unanimous in theirdesire 1878, this distinguished body met, and 
to renew the war with Russia, and the proceeded with its work of putting back 
course adopted by England in bringing the hands of the Russian clock. Adiplo- 
nji from India large masses of native matic Congress in Europe is a battle- 
troops greatly encouraged the Turks in ground in which fierce jealousies, unre- 
their hope of a revival of hostilities. In leutiug hatred, and petty prejudices race 
Germany and in Austro-Hungary there without much restraint, although the 
was a decided anti -Russian feeling. It phraseology employed is of the most 
was said that the Russians were estab- delicate and courteous nature, 
lishing a theoretical depotism in In the Congress Prince Gortschakoff 
Bulgaria; Roumania itself protested brought out clearly the position of the 
against the treaty of San Stefano, and Christian races in Turkey, explained the 
even appealed to the English government antagonism of the Greeks and the Slavs, 
to he allowed representation at the and the limits of Bulgaria ; Beaconsfield 
Berlin Congress. At last this Congress unfolded his policy of checkmating 
met in the capital l<> which the political Russia; the Austrian designs on Bosnia 
power had been transferred from Paris and Herzegovina were set forth; the 
as the result of the great German mili- independence of Servia was confirmed; 
tarv victories. The French haughtily the Russian confjuesls in Asia were con- 
held aloof , chagrined and annoyed at the sidered, and the treaty of San Stefano 
manifestation of their secular enemy's thoroughly overhauled. The dexterous 
power in Europe. Lord Beaconsfield hand of Prince Bismarck was more than 
arrived in Berlin early in June of 1878, once interposed with marked advantage 
and was received with great honors, to the harmonious working of the con- 



EUROPE /.V STORM AND CALM. 



787 




788 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



ference. The alterations in European shores of the ^gean. On the other 
Turkey effected by the treaty, which whs hand it gave Austria permission to 
the outcome of the Berlin Congress, were occupy Bosnia, and gave her command 
not so great as those intended by the over Montenegro, thus affording a new 
treaty of San Stefano, but were enormous, protection against the Turk to the heroic 
and had for their substantial result the little country. In short, by the Berlin 
banishment of the Turk, who had grown Congress England had made asubstantial 
tired of the lands he so long 
misgoverned. To-day he 
has but a slender foothold 
in Constantinople, and is 
menaced even in his pos- 
session of this historic 
capital. Lord Beacons- 
field and his followers 
claimed that the treaty of 
Berlin placed tin' Turkish 
empire in a position of in- 
dependence : hut this is 
altogether too much to 
claim for it. It did indeed 
protect what little was left 
of the Turkish Empire in 
Europe, but that was so 
little as to be scarcely 
worth preserving. The 
modifications of the San 
Stefano treaty were, how- 
ever, numerous. The new 
treaty divided the so-called 
Bulgaria into two prov- 
inces, — one to the north of the Bal- 
kans being tributary to the Sultan ; 
one to the south, Eastern Kounielia, 
to lie under the Sultan's direct authority, 
but with administrative autonomy, and 
with a Christian governor-general. The 
Berlin treaty reduced the stay of the 




THE RADZIWILI, r.\EACE, IN 
\VHICn TIIE BERLIN' CON- 
CRESS WAS HEED. 



demonstration 
against the ad- 
vance of Russia, 
a id the estab- 
lishing of a 



southern Slavic 

empire, but had raised no impassable 
Russian army in European Turkey from barriers against the Russian advance, 
two years to nine months, and gave to Perhaps a less "imperial" policy on 
Roumania as compensation for the part the part of Lord Beaconstield and his 
of Bessarabia, — of which Russia had followers, — -a policy which should have 
demanded the return, — a greater allowed Russia free scope for her pcr- 
amount of territory south of the Danube fectly justifiable advance in south- 
than had been given by the San Stefano eastern Europe, — might have deter- 
treaty. It kept for Turkey the northern mined the Emperor of the North not to 



EUROPE IN STORM A.VD CALM. 



789 



o 
o 

Si 
w 

i-3 
t> 
SS 
H 

O 
f 

&> 

t) 

i-3 



Si 

o 




71)0 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



have made such gigantic strides in the and (his is as tru< w as it was when 

direction of the Indian frontier; but the brilliant Frenchman said it. The 
Lord Beaconsfield wanted to undertake Turkish empire, with its innumerable 
a task for which he would have needed traditions, with its religious formulas 
seven times the military resources at his and its fanaticism, its lust of conquest 
command. He wished to get complete and its rapacity and injustice' in deal- 
control in Afghanistan, to make the ing with subjugated provinces, will re- 
north-west frontier of India, impregnable main in history as a warning to civilized 
against the Russians, while at the same powers not to degenerate into tyrants, 
time he prevented Russia, from securing Its rdle in Europe is practically at an 
her coveted outlets in the south, and end, and this is a sufficient gain for the 



from protecting her kindred in the 
south-east of Europe. What lie 
succeeded in doing was in strength- 
ening Russian hostility to England, 



.. 

H 

Jlfrrrr, fillip 



moment. The en- 
thusiastic Slavs, who 
say that out of the 
two hundred and 
eighty million inhab- 
itants of Europe 
there are eighty-six 
millions of their own 
nationality ; thatthev 
are more numerous 
than the Germanic 
race, and occupy a 
wider space in Eu- 
rope than both the 
Germanic and Latin 

races, doubtless 
hoped that on t of 
recent events would 
and increasing Russian determination to lie horn the unification of their vari- 
wrest from England complete assent to mis branches, and that to a might} 
a. policy of assimilation, if not absorp- Slavic empire would lie given the pre- 
tion, in south-eastern Europe. To-day ponderance of power. Rut this is a 
Russia, is hammering at the Afghan gates 
for apparently uo other reason than to 
show England that she must be eoucilia- 





~i^ 



PALACE OP TITE SULTAN AT CONSTANTINOPLE. 



tory, or submit to a sudden and powerful 
assault upon her Indian frontier. 



dream which will not be realized for 
many long years to come. Germany 
and Italy have been unified, but the 
Slavs must wait. Before they can be 
merged in one great nation, Austria 
It is not our purpose here to enter into must have disappeared, Russia must 
a detailed account of the progress of have given evidence of a resistless mil- 
Turkey since the severe blow which it itary force which she does not yet appear 
has received from the numerous iusur- to possess, and Germany must have 
reetions in south-eastern Europe, cov- given her consent to the unification, or 
ering a period from 1875 to 1878. have been forced to accord it. The 
Lamartine said long ago of the Turk face of south-eastern Europe has been 
that lie was only encamped in Europe, changed. (Hit of small anil subjugated 



Ill HOPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



791 



principalities have come almost inde- 
pendent and energetic kingdoms and 
provinces. The march of enterprise is 
visible in the now fertile fields and the 
noble forests along the great streams, 
and in the mountain passes, where it 
had not been seen for four hundred 
years. One of the richest, most fertile, 
beautiful, and enchanting portions of 
Europe, which had been lying in ruins 
and in neglect since the battle of Kos- 
sovo, has now, within a period of ten 



years, been open to all the influences of 
civilization, and the effect upon the 
whole European community of the vast 
changes in this section cannot fail to be 
very great. It is not dangerous to 
prophesy that in some of the new storms 
that are soon to sweep over Europe the 
standard of the Crescent will recede 
from Constantinople, and will disappear 
into those Asiatic recesses out of which 
it came. 



71)2 



EUROPE IN SToRU AM) CALM. 



CHAPTER NINETY. 

Munich in its Slimy Plain by the Isar. — The Cold Greek Architecture of the Bavarian Capital. — 
The Monarchy of Bavaria. — The Present King Louis. — An Eccentric Sovereign. — Wagner 
unit Bayreuth. — Gambrinus in Munich. 



BERLIN," says M. Victor Tissot, 
"is in the midst of a desert of 
sand. Munich stands in the centre <>!' a 
stony plain, which seems to express only 
the sharpest and the most brutal things." 
M. Tissot went into Germany with a. 
determination to see merely the unfavor- 
able side of things; hut he has told the 
truth with regard to the situation of two 
of the great German cities. 

Munich is a part of new Europe, for 
all that makes it specially attractive to 

the traveller has 1 n placed on the 

above-mentioned stony plain within the 
hist hundred years. The showy and 
pretentious edifices, often classical and 
refined enough iii architecture, seem to 
shiver in the cold and inhospitable 

atmosphere of tie' vast expanse at the 
foot of the Bavarian Alps. In certain 
old quarters of Munich may still he 
found the quaintness anil picturesque 
charm so characteristic of the elder 
German towns; and one is inclined to 
turn to these nooks and by-streets 
rather than to the sham splendors which 
ambitious monarchs have heaped to- 
gether, with more reference to quantity 
than to quality. 

There an 1 views on the hanks of the 
rapidly rolling Isar which are striking. 
and it is hut a short journey from Munich 
into the wonders of the Bavarian moun- 
tain regions. The great Ludvvigsstrasse, 
or the street of palaces which t he faith- 
ful people named after its capricious 



monarch, Louis, is, when first seen, quite 
imposing. Here is the " Hall of Gen- 
erals," a lodge in the Italian style, with 
niches adorned with statues ; the great 
Gate of Victory, with bronze statues 
and reliefs; a church which contains the 
loyal tombs ; equestrian statues ; the war- 
office ; the stately library with its beauti- 
ful statues ; and here and there are hand- 
some churches, always in the Italian 
style. 

The Germans of the south were am- 
bitious of creating a new Athens at Mu- 
nich, and Louis I., of Bavaria, deserves 
the thanks of his generation for haying 
grouped about him a great number of 
clever painters, who were perhaps a little 
too willing to glorify the modest triumphs 
of this Teutonic sovereign. Greece and 
Egypt have both contributed to the glorifi- 
cation of Munich. Tin' visitor looks with 
astonishment upon a palace richly ornate 
with porticos and Tuscan columns, ami 
is told that this is the post-office. The 
Royal Theatre has a Corinthian peri- 
style, and is adorned with frescos which 
depict Apollo ill the midst of the Muses 
nine. A colossal museum, overladen 
with decoration, frescos, anil statues, 
and called the Maxiinilianeum. is well 
stocked with good paintings. 

The people of Munich are very proud 
of their city, and are a little inclined, 
like the worthy citizens of some of our 
western capitals, to gauge their esteem 
by the amount of money which edifices 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



793 



cost. The Bavarian burgher may even 
be heard saying, " Such and such a 
palace is splendid ; it cost an enormous 
sum." 

In what M. Tissot rather satirically 
calls the " Hellenic section " of Munich 
stands the Propyhea. a superb gate-way, 
imitated from that of the Acropolis at 
Athens, and erected at the time when 
Louis I. was indulging in fantastic vis- 
ions of the union of Greece and Bavaria. 
This monument was intended to cele- 
brate the war during which the Greeks 
threw off the Turkish yoke, and called 
to the throne King Otho I., founder of 
the Gra?co-Bavarian dynasty. As fate 
would have it, the day after the inau- 
guration of the celebration of this gate- 
way the ex-monarch of Greece came 
home to his native city of Munich to 
remain there. 

The museums known as the old ami 
new Pinakotheks and the Glyptothek 
contain tine collections, which would 
have appeared to vastly better advan- 
tage had they both been united in one 
splendid structure ; and one cannot help 
wondering why the Bavarians cannot 
call them by German rather than by 
Grecian titles. Outside the city, in what 
is known as the Hall of Fame, stands a 
colossal statue of Bavaria, nearly seventy 
feet high ; and climbing up into the 
head of this monster one ma)' look out 
through the vast apertures, which serve 
as eyes, over the city, the plain, and its 
environing mountains. Munich looks 
unreal and unsubstantial, and as if a 
great wind sweeping down from the Alps 
might blow it away. 

Stories of the old King Louis of Ba- 
varia, father of the present sovereign, 
are so well known that I shall not 
attempt to recite them anew. His artis- 
tic and amatory ambitions have been 
imitated in some measure by his son, who 



is eccentric in a high degree, yet who is 
immensely popular among his people. 
The anniversary of his birthday is cele- 
brated with loyal effusion and infinite 
beer and fireworks, and the invading 
centralization of northern Germany 
does not seem likely to do away with 
the fondness for the Bavarian royal 
family. The present King Louis is of 
delicate temperament, and it is said that 
his moody and exalted condition is due 
to a disappointment in love when he was 
but a youth. This story does not appear 
to have been contradicted. 

The King's ruling passion at present 
is music, to which he devotes himself 
with all the ardor of a great composer. 
He is, I believe, the only monarch in 
Europe who has a whole operatic per- 
formance given for himself alone. lie 
believes in enjoying to the full the privi- 
leges of a king, and esteems it necessary 
that he should be screened from the gaze 
of the common herd whenever it pleases 
him to be so, no matter how much this 
may annoy his subjects or what moneys 
it may cost them. Now and then he 
arrives, late at night, and without warn- 
ing to any of his servitors, at one of his 
many fantastic palaces in some pretty 
nook in the mountains or by a pleasant 
lake. In his train are musicians, singers, 
painters, and poets. A little intellectual 
court is organized : fites are held, and, 
just as the inhabitants of the locality 
are beginning to congratulate themselves 
on the presence of their sovereign, he 
whisks himself off with all the swiftness 
of a prince in a fairy-tale. He has long 
ago given up dreams of any political 
rdle in southern Germany; yet, unlike 
the King of Wurtemhurg, he has not, in 
effacing his own importance before that 
of the dominating Prussian influence, 
run the risk of losing the respect of his 
people. When his ministers annoy him 



7 ( .)4 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

with stories of what he must or must they criticised the King's generosity I" 

nut (In he takes to the mountains him, had chosen Bayreuth as his resi- 

and leaves them in the lurch. On one dence, King Louis was willing to build 

occasion, in ls7.">, in order Lo escape him whatsoever he wished, 
them, lie trotted off through the Tyrol, Thither came the great artists from 

and the ministers caught his royal skirts Vienna, and there Hans Richter, who 

just as he was disappearing into Italy. has since become so famous in London 

It is said of him that when a pale- with his orchestra of a hundred nnisi- 
faced ambassador brought to him the cians, picked from all the musical theatres 
news that the Prussians were in Nurem- of Germany, brought forth the master's 
berg, and would soon march upon weird and mystical allegories, and pa- 
Munich, the King, who was in costume raded before the eyes of the most scepti- 
as one of the heroes of a Wagnerian cal people in the world the gods and 
libretto, showed but little agitation, and goddesses of their banished Pagan my- 
whcn the ambassador had departed sat thology. It was not Louis II.. during 
down at his piano as tranquilly as if Wagner's lifetime, who held court at 
nothing had happened. Bayreuth : it was Wagner himself; and 

The King of Bavaria was so fond of none more sincerely mourned for the 
Wagner that he could refuse him nothing, great composer, when he finished his 
On one occasion Wagner asked the King laborious and agitated life in the calm 
to tear down a whole quarter of the city, seclusion of Venice, than did the Vouth- 
and build in its place a vast amphitheatre ful ruler of Bavaria, 
which would hold fifty thousand specta- There is one monarch who stands quite 
tors; and King Louis was about to as high in the affections of the populace 
giant the request when a practical sub- of Munich as King Louis, and that is 
ject put into his head the question of the venerable Gambrinus, to whose court 
expense, and suggested that to raise all classes daily repair. The breweries 
the money would wreck the treasury of of Munich arc renowned throughout 
the kingdom. Without a monarch like Europe, and the drinking-halls connected 
Louis II., of Bavaria, a composer like with them offer a very curious spectacle 
Richard Wagner would have found it when night lias closed down over the 
difficult, if not impossible, to carry out capital. In Munich there is in the even- 
his grandiose conceptions. The great ing none of the exuberant gayety and 
musical theatre of Bayreuth, with its vivacity of the Paris streets; but there 
scenic and orchestral effects, could is plenty of wassail within the walls, and 
scarcely have been created in northern deep drinking is one of the principal 
Germany. The old Emperor of Ger- pastimes, especially of the middle and 
many, it. is said, contributed but three lower classes. The Hof-Brau, or Royal 
hundred thalers to the Wagner Theatre. Brewery, is the most popular resort in 
while the Viceroy of Egypt alone gave .Munich. The citizens sometimes laugh- 
five thousand ; but the royal treasury of ingly observe that the Bavarian court 
Bavaria furnished the greater pail of the has long drawn the chief of its revenues 
funds. The King was delighted with from the gratification of the nation's 
the idea of having a musical Mecca es- thirst. In former days the court re- 

lablished within his territory, and so soon ceived a very hands e annual sum from 

as Wagner, who disliked Munich, and the privilege of supplying the rich city 

detested the citizens of Munich, because of Augsburg with water, and to-day ii 



EUROPE LV STORM AND CALM. 



795 



gets from the royal brewery a splendid 
yearly income. 

In the sombre and ill-lighted nails of 
the brewery after nightfall the stranger 
can almost fane}' that lie has been trans- 
ported backwards into the Middle Ages. 
In one corner of the hall, and near the 
court-yard, through which stout serving- 
men, clad in leather, are constantly roll- 
ing fresh hogsheads, stands a huge gen- 
darme^ resplendent in a brazen helmet 
and wearing immaculate white gloves 
and a handsome sabre. This is the rep- 
resentative of the royal authority, and he 
looks unmoved upon the guzzling throng 
which now and then becomes boisterous, 
but is quieted by the simple intimation 
of the presence of authority. 

Around this splendid gendarme's feet 
run rivers of beer, from the overflowing 
stone mugs which the careless drinkers 
come to fill for themselves. From time 
to time bright-faced servant girls make 
tin rounds of the tables, and collect 
from each drinker the money due from 
him. Hundreds upon hundreds of the 
working-people bring their meals to this 
place, and eat them there while they 
drink the royal beer. And what things 
the populace of Munich eats ! Nameless 
things, pretexts for eating, the French, 
the English, or the Americans would 
call them: sausages and cold meats un- 
known in other climes ; black bread, and 
strange composites of cabbage and 
onions, — the prime requisite with the 
Munich man of the people being that 
his stomach should be filled, it matters 
little with what kind of solid food. Hut 
he is vastly particular in his cups, ami a 
lowering of the quality of (lie royal beer 
would breed a revolution in Munich 
more quickly than any tyrannical meas- 
ure oi' taxation. 

In October, during the great festival 
which lasts six days and six nights, all 
Munich devotes itself to the first "lasses 



of the winter beer, and celebrates the 
new brewing with as much joy and cere- 
mony as it would use in saluting the 
advent of a new prince. It is said that 
during one of the October festivals in 
Munich nine hundred thousand bottles 
of beer — a bottle holding more than a 
quart — were consumed daily by the 
thirsty throng. The ordinary xti'iit, or 
stone mug, in use in the royal brewery, 
holds much more than a quart of still 
cold beer, and is enough quite to turn 
the head of a stranger accustomed to 
moderation in drink. 

In the towns the Bavarian populations 
are sceptical, although great outward 
attention is paid to all the Catholic forms 
of religion. In the mountain regions 
the Catholicism is as deep and earnest, as 
firmly engrafted in the manners of the 
people as it was live or six centuries 
ago; and the gentle wood-cutters of the 
pretty mountain district in which stands 
the village of Ober-Ammergau have 
called the attention of the whole world 
to their devotion by the periodical pro- 
duction of the Passion Play. The war 
in 1870 interfered to prevent the repre- 
sentation of the Mystery Play in that 
year, but in 1*71 the wood-carvers, who 
had done good service in the army, were 
back again in their homes and gave the 
Bible story with their usual realistic 
power. In 1881 the play was again pre- 
sented, and so every ten years "ill be 
given to the world, in solemn fulfilment 
of the vow made by the peasants of 
Ober-Ammergau long ago, in the hope 
that their devotion might save them 
from the pestilence which had shown its 
hideous face in their smiling valley. 

The representation of 1881 was in 
many respects more striking than any 
which had preceded it at Ober-Ammergau 
during this century, and I have set down 
my own impressions of it in the following 
chapter. 



796 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER NINETY-* )NE. 

The Passion-Play atObcr-Ammergau. — The Theatre of the Passion.— Old Miracle Plays.— The Chorus 
at Ober-Ammergau. — Bavarian Wood-carvers is Actors. — The Personator of the Saviour. — 
Caiaphas. — The Figures of Peter and .Indus.— The Women Interpreters of the Passion. — The 
Departure from Bethany, and the Last Supper. — Comments of a Distinguished American Actor. — 
The Scourging and the Crown of Thorns. — The Despair of Judas. — Effective Portrayal of the 
Judgment and Crucifixion. — A Beautiful, Holy , and Noble Dramatic Sketch of the Most. Wonderful 
Life and Death. 



THE rain was falling when we awoke, 
"ii a September morning, in Obcr- 
Amrnergau, and the sky indicated that 
settled weather eould not be expected. 
But fortunately we were provided with 
covered scats in the theatre, and could 
therefore afford to smile at the clouds. 
We looked at the clock, and found that 
it was seven. A neat-handed maiden 
served us with a light breakfast, and at 
tins early hour she had to hasten away 
to the theatre, where she was to appear 
as " one of the crowd " in an early scene. 
.By the time breakfast was over the rain 
had ceased, but the clouds threatened to 
give us more of it at any moment. We 
took our umbrellas and tramped across 
the meadows to the village street, and 
thence to the theatre. 

The Crown Prince was there before 
us, and the crowds were saluting him 

with shouts of ■• Iloch ! Hoch ! " sent 

up at regular intervals, and somewhat 
as if they had been told to do it just so 
many times. Friederich WilheliD got 
into his place presently, and then we 
were permitted to climb along some 
wooden stair-ways and passages, and at 
last to gain our places in the covered 
lodges. 

The theatre of the Passion, at Ober- 
Ammergau, is very spacious and solid. 
I should think that more than six thou- 
sand people can get into it. ami there are 



five thousand scats. It is so arranged 
that every person in it can see the stage 
perfectly. Although built of common 
planks, without any especial attempt at 
decoration, it is exquisitely clean, and 
perfectly comfortable. Sitting in the 
reserved places, under cover, one looks 
down upon the open space, in which 
three thousand persons can sit, and do 
sit at every performance, no matter 
whether it rains or not. The reserved 
seats rise in rows, like those of an am- 
phitheatre in a lecture-room or a circus. 
The most expensive places are farther 
from the stage than the least expensive 
ones, and 1 think they are preferable, 
because the illusion is heightened by 
1 icing somewhat removed from the actors 
in the [lions drama. 

The stage is the most remarkable feat- 
ure of the theatre. It consists of a 
vast proscenium, which is open to the 
sky; of a central stage, inclosed with a 
portico of Roman form, and " practica- 
ble " doors and balconies on cither side 
of the middle in which the curtain rises. 
On cither side of this central curtain 
there are sets of streets, which run back 
a long distance, and which are quite as 
spacious as many of the real streets in 
Jerusalem. When, therefore, the cur- 
tain of the central stage is raised and 
the scene inside it is set to represent a 
street, one has before him a very good 



EUROTE IN STORM AND CALM. 



7 <t; 



picture of the interior of Jerusalem. 
"When it is necessary to represent a tab- 
leau in .1 scene in the drama which de- 
mands but a small place, then only the 
central stage is used. The old mystery 
stage consisted of nine compartments : 
the ancient classic theatre of Greece had 
the same arrangement of proscenium 
which the villagers of Ober-Ammergau 
have adopted. Doubtless they have ex- 
cellent traditions upon which to found 
their present manner of arranging their 
stage. They manage it so as to get the 
very best scenic effects with the smallest 
machinery. For example, the spectator, 
when he first sits down to look at the 
scene, sees the balcony and a door on 
either side of the curtain, and at first 
fancies that they are placed there as or- 
naments. But he is agreeably surprised 
when, in the progress of the play, he 
finds that one of them represents the 
balcony of Pontius Pilate, and the other 
one that above the palace of Annas. 
Probably the monks of the monastery of 
Ettal or of some of the other institutions 
in the valley possessed accurate records 
of the manner in which mysteries at all 
epochs have been represented, and how 
long these representations have been 
popular. 

As early as 1110 Geoffrav,a Norman, 
wrote a mystery play called " Saint Cath- 
erine." He had many successors and 
imitators, some of them writing produc- 
tions which required seven or eight days 
for their complete representation, like 
the plays of the Chinese, who repre- 
sent the stories of their gods aud heroes. 
One play in the Middle Ages undertook 
to represent the whole of scripture his- 
tory, and lasted rather more than a week. 
The famous Coventry mystery, which be- 
gan with the Creation and ended with 
a representation of the Judgment Day, 
must have been one of this class. The 



passion of Christ and the slaughter of the 
Innocents were among the subjects most 
commonly represented. The name " mys- 
tery " appears to have been given to this 
order of play because it taught the doc- 
trinesof Christianity, which in the Middle 
Ages were always considered in the high- 
est degree mysterious. The origin of the 
theatre in France, and indeed, in the whole 
of Europe, dates from the introduction of 
these mysteries in the fourteenth and fif- 
teenth centuries. The Comedie-Fran- 
eaise was founded on the ruins of a 
privilege once accorded to the Confrerie 
do hi Passion, so-called because they rep- 
resented the closing scenes in the life of 
Jesus. In the early days the mysteries 
were never considered by any class of 
people as an amusement, but rather as 
solemnities ; it was only with degraded 
manners and a dissolute age that inounte- 
baukery was added. 

The Ober-Ammergau people have done 
wisely in banishing from their version of 
the Passion anything like the grotesque 
or vulgar. Thirty or forty years ago they 
were \vi nit to represent Judas as torn open 
and disembowelled by demons ; but now 
they would not tolerate any such thing 
on their stage. When the mysteries 
first began, the services in churches in 
France were shortened, in order that 
people might attend them. Thus the 
Church directly encouraged the theatre 
as a growing institution worthy of pat- 
ronage. But in the course of time they 
degenerated, particularly in Fiance, into 
something dangerously like travesty. In 
the mysteries represented in the Trinity 
Hospital aud in the Hotel deBourgogne, 
a view of heaven was given with Cod 
the Father seated on a throne and sur- 
rounded by angels. I have myself seen a 
representation of the interior of heaven on 
the stage of the Porte St. Martin theatre 
in Paris. Hell was figured by a huge pit 



798 eurote i.v storm and calm. 

in the centre of the stage, out of which was written by one Andreino, and dedi- 
large and little devils arose from time to cated to Maria Do Medicis. The subject 
time ; and heaven was supported bylofty was the fall of man. The actors were 
scaffoldings. The actors, when they I'm- the Eternal, the devil, the angels, Adaui, 
ished their parts, did not retire from the Eve, the serpenl, death, and the seven 
stage, but sat down on benches at the side, deadly sins. At the close of the play, 
in full view of the audience, and waited these sins danced a break-down with the 
for their " cues " to summon them once devil, and produced roars of laughter. 
more into action. Not so much attention Milton was so much excited by the 
was paid to historical truth in those days sober and solemn part of the play that 
as now. In a mystery of the Middle Ages, he at once began a tragedy, in which 
Herod is represented as a Pagan, and Satan and the angels fallen from Heaven 
Pilate as a Mohammedan. Hut to-day appear, and actually wrote an act and a 
the Ober-Ammergau peasants are scrupu- half of it before he gave it up. 
lously careful to have all their properties Some of these things we remembered, 
in accordance with the historical record, as we sat looking out over the high wall 
One looks in vain for anachronisms in at the right of the stage upon the green 
their play. In old times after the scene meadow and the great uplift of nioun- 
of the crucifixion, a ludicrous (lance of tain, or gazing down at the four thou- 
devils, or something similar, was given sand heads which were ranged in 
to put the spectators in good-humor regular order below us. There were all 
again. But now such a thing would be our peasant friends of the previous day ; 
1 loked upon as a sacrilege. The peasants they had slept somewhere over nii; I it, and 
sit silent, with streaming eyes and tivni- were now waiting impatiently for the be- 
bling lips, after the curtain has fallen up- ginning. On the left was an orchestra, 
on the crowning woe of the sacrifice of sufficiently large to produce a proper 
Christ. Certainly it is better, in the in- effect in the vast iuclosure. The lnusi- 
lercsts of both religion and art, that no cians were playing an overture, which 
buffoonery should intrude upon the touch- had many claims to merit, above all, a 
ing and tender story of the Passion. gentle harmony which seemed full of 
Victor Hugo's lively description of reverence and peace, well calculated to 
the mystery called "The Good Judg- prepare the mind for the scenes to come, 
mcid of the Virgin Mary," in the first The sound of a cannon-shot was heard; 
book of "Notre Dame," is doubtless it was the signal that the play was to 
familiar to thousands of American begin ; and the procession of the chorus 
leaders. Hugo shows that buffoonery marched slowly and solemnly upon the 
was still in full force in the mysteries stage. 'Phis chorus consists of eighteen 
and moralities at the close of the fifteenth singers, whose duty it is to announce the 
century. Anil who does not remember tableaux to he shown, then to fall hack 
Voltaire's pleasant description of the on either side of the stage when the cur- 
mystery which Milton saw when in his tain rises, and when it, falls, once more 
youth he was travelling in Italy, and to come forward and chant the moral, 
which became the germ of the immortal When the whole space is needed for 
poem of "Paradise Lost"? This action, as in processions, etc., the sing- 
mystery, which was produced in Milan, ers retire in single file, nine on each side, 
was called " Adam, or Original Sin," as they entered. They are persons of 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



7'.)!) 



commanding figure, and with sweet and 
harmonious voices. The leader of the 
chorus is required to make very great ex- 
ertion, for if he did not his single voice 
could scarcely be heard by a large por- 
tion of the immense audience. Some of 
the women have graceful figures, but 
none of them are pretty. Their gestures 
and attitude while singing show the re- 
sults of rather formal training. But 
they serve on the whole admirably to till 
up the intervals between the tableaux 
and dramatic action, and toward the 
close of the mystery their music rises to 
the height of veritable eloquence. 

Behind the curtain in the central 
stage, for a few minutes before the 
first tableau is shown, all the actors 
and actresses kneel in silent, prayer. 
This is never omitted, although they 
have already attended mass at six 
o'clock. After the prayer each one 
noiselessly disperses to his or her place, 
the curtain rises as the chorus finishes, 
announcing the subject to be displayed, 
and falls back, and the audience is 
shown "the fall," — the expulsion of 
Adam and Eve from Eden. 

And, before proceeding to comment 
upon the various parts of this singularly 
impressive religious drama, it may be 
well to remark that the ardor which the 
Ober-Aminergau peasants have displayed 
in their endeavors to show the connec- 
tion between the Old Testament and 
the New is a constant and the only 
drawback to the perfection of the 
'• mystery." The peasants, on the con- 
trary, believe that the chief importance 
of their work lies in the establishment 
of this connection, and here and there 
they have most lamentably strained the 
law and the prophets, in order to perfect, 
to their own satisfaction, the analogy. 
By means, too. of these tableaux from 
the Old Testament, they detract from 



the dramatic unity and the impressive 
beauty of the scenes from the New. 
The more thoroughly to appreciate this, 
let any one who has been at Ober- 
Ammergau during the summer remem- 
ber how wonderfully he was impressed 
by that, section of the Passion-Play 
which portrays the wanderings and trials 
of Christ from the time he enters Je- 
rusalem until, having taken leave of the 
people, after driving the money-changers 
from the Temple, he retires with his dis- 
ciples to Bethany. There is a solid, 
coherent bit of drama, exquisitely pre- 
sented, and if the story were carried 
straight on, without any interference of 
Old Testament history, the result would 
lie vastly more imposing. Of course, 
the gentle wood-carvers and housewives 
of Ober-Ammergau, if asked to change 
in any manner the arrangement of the 
mystery, would reply with a " Nnn 
Possumus," from which there would lie 
no appeal. 

The first two tableaux, which are 
symbolical of the fall of man and the 
redemption, are not especially impres- 
sive. Adam and Eve, in llesh-colored 
tights and garments of skins, have a 
very theatrical look. The angel with 
the flaming sword looks like a rather 
robust young woman, dressed in blue 

and white. There is nothing whatever 
aerial or angelic about her, and the 
serpent, twining round the apple-tree is 
suggestive of papier machi. But, the 
solemn chant of the (.-horns is touching, 
and thoroughly explains the idea which 
the author of the mystery had in his 
mind : — 

" Dochvon Feme von Calvarias Elohen. 
Leuchtet durch die Nacht ein Morgengliihin 
Aus des Kreuz baurn.es Zweigen Wehen. 
Friedenslufte durch die Welten kin." 

The second tableau represents a host 



800 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



of little children, dressed in white, kneel- 
ing at the foot of the cross. Some of 
these village babes are attired as angels. 
This is pretty, but it gives one, as a pri- 
mary impression, a feeling of disappoint- 
ment, destined, fortunately, to pass 
away almost immediately. The chorus 
marches slowly, with trailing robes and 
solemn step, off from the stage to left 
and fight, ami the curtain in tiie centre 
is once more lowered. Here the illusion 
once more seizes upon the beholder, nor 
dors it leave him readily. lie lias 
before him two streets, right and left, 
and these have suddenly been peopled 
with men, women, and children, in 
bright Oriental costumes. Tittle children 

run to and fro. lltteiillg joyful cries 
and waving palm-branches ; grave elders 
advance slowly, conversing together 
< > ■ i some event of marked importance; 
and the women are wild witli joy. 
Down the central street and under a 
frowning gate-way they come; men 
uprise from bazaar and stall to join 
them, and presently one sees (1 know 
that in my own case it was with a joyful 
emotion, which 1 should have been at a 
loss to analyze) the figure of tin' Sav- 
iour mounted upon an ass, moving 
forward in the midst of his disciples. 
The impression of reality is greatly 
heightened l>v the leisurely manner in 
which this scene is enacted. Everything 
moves as naturally as in real life; and 
the crowd increases so rapidly that it is 
difficult for one to persuade himself thai 
he is not witnessing a genuine outpour- 
ing from a glad capital's streets. 

Arrived on the proscenium, the Sav- 
iour alights, and conies forward grace- 
fully and with humility. lie does not 
shrink from the homage bestowed, but 
implies by his gestures that it is not 
for himself, but for a higher power of 
which he is only the instrument. As he 



pauses in the midst of his disciples, and 
utters, while the hosannas of the multi- 
tude are dying away, those memorable 
words, '• The hour is come that the Son 
of Man should be glorified. Verily, 
verily. I say unto you, except a corn of 
wheat fall into the ground and die, it 
abideth alone ; but if it die, it bring- 
eth forth much fruit," his figure is 
instinct with gracious piety. Joseph 
Maier, who personates the Saviour, is of 
good stature and remarkably line figure ; 
his face, although not very spiritual in 
repose, has, when he is speaking, some 
pathetic lines ; his features are not so 
distinctly Oriental as were those of his 
predecessor, Tobias Flunger, but his 
l«>se is noble, and his long black hair 
and his symmetrical beard add to his 
prophet-like appearance. In his simple 
robes he walks like one who feels the 
dignity of an inspired mission, yet who 
is keenly sensible of his humanity. 

There are five hundred persons on the 
stage in this remarkable scene, and I 
think it is safe to say that not one of 
them appears awkward or ill at ease, so 
perfect has every one's training been. 
The high-priests and a group of Phari- 
sees approach, looking wonderingly at 
this strange central figure, with its sweet 
resonant voice, its gentle gestures, and 
its mildness. 

The curtain of the central stage rises, 
disclosing the interior of the Temple, 
with the money-changers trading across 
their tables and with the hubbub of 
traffic rising among the sacred columns. 
The Saviour looks at this scene of pro- 
fanity for a time, then folds his hands 
and bows his head in silent prayer. 
When his prayer is finished, he advances 
to the Temple, utters the famous protest, 
ami asks the priests how they can look 
on silently ami see such sacrilege. 
"Who is this man?" cry the money- 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CA1 if. 



801 



changers and the priests. " It is the 
great prophet from Nazareth," answers 
the crowd, and meantime Jesus, ad- 
vancing among the frightened traders, 
catches up a rope which had been used 
to bind lambs for the sacrifice and 
scourges the men forth. This is done 
in most realistic fashion ; the tallies are 
overturned; the money-changers grovel 
in their gold ; "the seats of them that 
sold doves " are upset, and the birds 
flutter away in all directions. At this 
juncture, Caiaphas flies into a great rage, 
and makes several passionate addresses 
to the people Sadoc, of the Council, 
demands Christ's authority for his inter- 
ference. Moses is invoked as the only 
true prophet, and the Pharisees and 
priests are doing their best to inflame the 
people's minds against the new prophet, 
when Jesus and his disciples depart for 
Bethany. One view of this superb scene, 
which from first to last contains nothing 
that can offend the susceptibilities of 
the most reverent spectator, is more 
useful in fixing forever in the mind the 
mournful story than a hundred readings 
of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. It 
sticks in the mind as a bit of masterly 
painting does. 

Caiaphas is an important personage 
in the Passion-Play. He makes, I think, 
the longest speeches, and his stately 
figure, in its rich garments, moves 
to and fro through the piece with great 

effect. Caiaphas is played by Johann 
Lang, who, 1 believe, was once the 
Burgomaster of Ober-Ammergau. lie 

lias a grand he-id. and the priestly coif- 
fure brings out all the good points in his 
face to great advantage. The disciples 
are almost without exception very sat- 
isfactorily represented. If any failed. 
it was John, who did not quite seem to 
reach our ideal of the beloved one. But 
the figures of Peter and Judas had a 



strange fascination for me. They are 
reproductions from the " old masters'" 

e :eptions of those disciples, ami they 

have by long practice become astonish- 
ingly proficient in movement and group- 
ing, so as constantly to remind one of 
the paintings from which the modern 
Christian world has formed its ideal. 

There was an atmosphere of quaint- 
ness, of rough, commonplace greed, 
about Judas, which never deserted him, 
not even in the moment of his suicide. 

The acting of the Apostles is emi- 
nently realistic, at least it was when I 
saw them : then' was no ranting, no 
whining, no ostentation. These were 
real men ; every spectator felt it. Jacob 
llett, who personates Peter, and Lech- 
ner. who is Judas — for he is so natural 
that no one can conceive of him as acting 
— are, like Maier, wood-carvers. Hett's 
specialty is the production of small cru- 
cifixes, anil Lechner is very skilful in 
the same line. A lady friend told me 
that she was lodged at the house of 
Judas, and that Ik worked late at his 
carving-bench on the night before the 

performance. 

Judas, as represented in this mystery, 
awakens a. feeling of compassion. It is 
impossible to consider him as anything 
else than the unwitting victim of a su- 
preme power, singled out to bring on the 
great sacrifice. He is wordy, is poor 
Judas, ou the road t<> Bethany, although 
he tries his best not to be so. His belly 
is empty; the cool night-air of the 
mountains trouble him, and he is afraid 
of coining catastrophe. When he 
repents of his mighty crime, and, in 
agony of grief and humiliation, throws 
the sack containing the pieces of silver 
at the foot of the vile tribunal into 
whose merciless keeping he has sold his 
Lord, the whole public feels a vast pity 
for him. When Judas was playing this 



802 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

scene on the day that I saw the Passion- cussion is long and stormy. The money- 
Play, a thick, heavy rain-storm was pour- changers are sent for, and come in to 
iug on the heads of the three thousand suggest a vindictive programme. One 
peasants and other unfortunate people of them announces that he thinks he 
who were in the uncovered scats; hut knows a disciple who will betray the 

not i individual arose to leave his or prophet. At this statement the Sanhe- 

her scat. Judas held them all by the pas- drira breaks up joyfully, and the curtain 

sionate natural vehemence of his acting, falls, leaving the spectator impressed 

Even in the little question, "Is it I?" with the reality of a scene which lias 

at the Last Supper, there is a note of been enacted on a rude stage in a 

human anguish, which dues not fail to meadow in an obscure mountain region. 

start responsive tears in the eyes of the Then come two other intrusive tab- 

spectators. But 1 am proceeding a little leaux, one showing young Tobias taking' 

too far ahead. leave of his parents, and the other the 

From the moment that the anger of Mourning Bride of the Canticles. These 
the priests and money-changers is are intended to lead the minds of the 
aroused, Christ's doom is clearly fore- audience up to (he scene of the depart- 
shadowed in every part of the mystery me of Christ from Bethany and his 
until the end conn's. After the scene leave-taking of his mother. And now 
in the Temple the chorus returns, and Christ and his disciples appear in pict- 
sings the prelude to a tableau which uresque procession before the house of 
discloses the sons of Jacob conspiring Simon. Here the illusion of Orieutal- 
agaiusl their brother Joseph; and a ism is well sustained. The gestures of 
moment after, a second tableau, portray- those who come to invite Christ to 
iug the wicked brethren as about to enter the banquet-room, their costumes, 
cast Joseph into the well on the plain their gait, all are grave, Eastern, and 
of Dotlian, is shown. These are sup- filled with a certain quaintness which 
posed to be emblematical of the perse- is not without its force. It was in this 
ciitiou which Christ was doomed later scene in Simon's house, as il seemed to 
to suffer. They are more vigorously me, that Joseph Maier, as the person- 
conceived and richly dressed than the ator of Christ, achieved one of his prin- 
preceding ones from the < >ld Testament, cipal triumphs. Here In 1 was the man, 
But when the central curtain rises and suffering from fatigue, from persecu- 
displavs the magnificent '-set" of the tiou, from a foreboding of the trial to 
Sanhedrim, in which the high-priests come ; but his presence was noble and 
of the synagogue are discussing meas- his dignity noticeable. Jus! as he has 
ures to he taken againsl the prophet of seated himself, and while Martha is 
Nazareth, one cannot help regretting waiting upon the hungry and tired dis- 
that the unity of the action is inter- eiples. Mary Magdalen, whom the 
rupted by tableaux. Ober-Ammergau dramatists consider 

This Sanhedrim scene is very realistic, as the same as Mary the sister of 

Caiaphas in superb dress, with his breast- Martha, rushes in, and throwing herself 

plate ornamented with twelve precious at the feel of Jesus, proceeds to anoint 

stones, presides. Annas, robed in white, them with costly ointment. When the 

sits near him, and the others are ranged woman kneels before him, Maier cries out 

around the rooms in tribunes. The dis- " Maria !" and rises with that startled, 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



803 



deprecatory air which any pure and noble 
man would put on when finding himself 
adored by beauty. I thought it a real 
stroke of genius. But when Judas 
comes shuffling forward in his dirty 
yellow gown, and tries to quarrel with 
the Magdalen for wasting so much 
money in ointment, and the actor arises, 
saying, '• Let her alone, she hath 
wrought a good work on me," the con- 
trast from meekness to sudden assump- 
tion of authority is exceedingly striking. 
I think that Simon and his family 
as actors would put to shame a good 
many stock actors in our minor theatres. 
It is true that they have the traditions 
of two hundred and fifty years, during 
which this Mystery Play, in one form 
or another, has been carried on, to help 
them; but, even with that inheritance, 
it is odd that they should be so clear, 
remote as they are from the refining 
and educating influences of any large 
theatre. I suspect, however, thai 
neither the leading nor the minor char- 
acters in the '• Mystery " would thank 
us for j uaising them as actors. They 
are filled with the idea that the func- 
tions which they perform are religious, 
and they at all times think more of the 
religion than of tin 1 art. It is very 
evident that all the peasants ami the 
mass of Catholic German visitors to 
the Passion .share this feeling. 

The Passion-Play is not fortunate in 
its women interpreters. She who plays 
Mary is sincere, and avoids any very 
sharp criticism, but her acting nowhere 
rises to the level of that shown by the 
personators of Caiaphas, Peter, and 
Judas. The only scene in which it ap- 
peared to me that Mary was sufficiently 
effective was in the meeting with the 
Saviour as he is about to leave Bethany. 
Joseph Maier has a rich, melodious voice ; 
perhaps there is a slight tiuge of 



artificiality in its pathos, but in general 
it was very agreeable ; and when he mur- 
murs in the ear of the kneeling mother 
•• How am I prepared to consecrate mv 
work' of atonement?" I saw many a 
tearful face around me. The tears arise 
unbidden at the sight of this Bible made 
flesh, this living and breathing New 
Testament. I know that as I sat gazing 
at this scene, a vision of my childhood 
arose before me, — the old school-house 
with its worn benches, the tender breeze 
of a New England summer morning that 
swayed the delicate petals of the flow- 
ers on the teacher's desk, and the soft 
voices of the scholars as they read the 
sacred book. If my youthful imagi- 
nation had been touched and fired by 
such scenes as this Passion-Play con- 
tains, how tremendously vital would 
have been mv memory of every slightest 
circumstance in the mysterious and holy 
drama which began at the Temple and 
ended at Calvary ! Put would a Passion- 
Play be possible among the New Eng- 
land hills? Mary, in an agony of grief, 
beseeches her s<>n not to risk his pre- 
cious life, and the women with her join 
with Simon in urging her to enter the 
latter's house, and to repose. This scene 
never fails to produce immense effect; 
and its climax is found, as the curtain 
falls, in the sombre attitude of Judas, 
who is still meditating over the squan- 
dering of money by the Magdalen on 
the ointment, and who mutters, "Those 

three hundred pence that she spent 
would have been enough for me. With 
them I could have lived content." 

And so the holy drama moves stead- 
ily on. The little band of disciples, hud- 
dled around the Master, goes back to 
Jerusalem. It is useless to attempt a 
description of all the pictures which fol- 
low one another in rapid succession 
until the famous scene of the Last Sup- 



804 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

per is reached. The Old Testament haps the finest Old Testament tableau in 
tableau, which is supposed to prefigure the Passion-Play, — the sending down of 
Christ's rejection of the Jews as a pun- manna to the Israelites in the wilder- 
ishment of their sins, is that of Ahasu- ness. In this living picture one hun- 
erus putting away Vashti and taking dred and fifty children and nearly twice 
Esther in her stead. This Hit* away that number of grown persons are en- 
like the memory of a dream, and while gaged. Moses and Aaron occupy prom- 
the leader of the chorus is still address- inent positions in the foreground ; youths, 
iug his warning to Jerusalem, our atten- maidens, mothers with babes in arms, 
tion is invited to a group upon the brow all are stretching out their hands or 
of the Mount of Olives. In the distance 1 raising their eyes thankfully to heaven, 
lies the Holy City, over the unhappy pel- from whence the manna gently descends 
versity of which the Master weeps. like snow. .V second tableau, showing 

Here occurs a very dramatic seem', the spies returning from the Promised 
amply anil nobly written out in dramatic Land, follows this superb one. 
form, wherein the disciples learn that It is said that all those persons whose 
Christ goes towards his doom, and en- religious feelings are somewhat aroused 
deavor to dissuade him from it. At against the performance of the sacred 
last Peter and John are sent forward to ceremony of the sacramentof the Lord's 
prepare the feast of the Passover, and Supper on the stage, go away with their 
Judas, who is afraid to go to Jerusalem, objections removed after they have seen 
and is selfishly anxious that the Master the Passion-Play; for, in this part of 
should provide lor his sustenance, in- the Passion, Joseph Maier and those 
dulges in a long and powerful soliloquy, who surround him are entitled to the 
in which avarice and conscience struggle highest praise. They do not fall short 
for the mastery. Meantime, the spies of the mark ; their work has a sacred 
of the Sanhedrim and the money-changers quality in it.. A tremendous sincerity 
arrive, and Judas falls an easy prey to underlies their every action. The cur- 
their propositions, lie stifles his better tain rises on the hall in Mark's house, 
nature, ami rushes wildly off to Jerusa- and as the disciples enter and group 
lem, there to watch his chance for the themselves at the table, it is easy to see 
Master's betrayal. This scene is pre- at a glance that they reproduce Leo- 
sented with a graphic force and intensity nardo da Vinci's noted picture. Every 
which never fails to impress the spec- attitude is closely reproduced ; Peter 
tators. The money-changers are in grim sits on the right, John on the left of the 
earnest, Judas's anguish of mind is real, Saviour. The ceremony of the distribu- 
and, were manifestations of applause tion of the bread and the wine is per- 
allowed in the theatre, there is no doubt formed with the greatest dignity and 
that there would he plenty of them at. sweetness by Joseph Maier. This ro- 
this point in the mystery. markable scene lasts more than half an 

The next scene shows Peter and John hour, and the aggregation of detail in it 

seeking out the house of Mark in Jeru- is so enormous that it burns itself into 

salem. — a fine little hit of realism, — the senses as real. The washing of the 

intelligently acted, with an immense disciples' feet by the Master is done in 

amount of detail: and then comes the the most reverent manner. That these 

act of the Last Supper, prefaced by per- men should he able, Sunday after Sun- 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



805 



day, to go through this ceremony without 
fatigue or blunder, with grace and rev- 
erence, and with spiritual enthusiasm, 
proves that they feel a certain consecra- 
tion for the 'work. The peasants in the 
audience take mosl intense interest in 
this supper; its representation is an acl 
of high religion for them. The old 
women, with tear-stained faces, gaze at 
the form of the Saviour bending over 
the feet of Peter, and when they hear 
the apostle say, "Thou slialt neverwash 
my feet," and hear Christ answer. '• If I 
wash thee not, thou hast no part with 
me," they are terribly moved. While 
the foot-washing is in progress, soft 
music is heard, and singers intone a 
hymn. The communion is celebrated 
next, and some little relief is afforded 
to tht-' audience, which has been spell- 
bound, while the sacred bread and wine 
are given by Christ to the disciples. 
when Judas receives the sop and rushes 
confusedly from the chamber. Perhaps 
the best feature of this part of the Pas- 
sion is the affliction of the disciples when 
the Master has given the cup, and says. 
"• As often as ye do tins, do it in remem- 
brance of me." They show their fears 
that he is to lie taken from them, and 
John lays his head upon tin- Saviour's 
breast, while Judas sits moodily eying 
the dishes on the table This is most 
happily conceived. 

The betrayal follows in a series of 
weird pictures winch are like relievos. 
Each one embodies an important inci- 
dent. The curtain rises to show us 
Joseph sold to the Midianites > for twenty 
piecesof silver, — type of the action which 
Judas is about to commit. This scene 
is prepared with great care ; the costumes 
of the Midianites, the heads of the camels 
appearing through the foliage of the 
oasis, the attitude of young Joseph stand- 
ing stripped of his coat of many colors, 



and endeavoring to defend himself from 
the brutality of Ins brethren. Every- 
thing in the living picture is studied wit!: 
perfect attention to truth. This vanishes, 
and the chorus closes in to sing a quaint 

reproof to Judas, who is alioiit to follow 

the example of the wicked brethren. 

And now the tribunal of the Sanhe- 
drim appears mice more before us: 
Caiaphas and Annas are addressing the 
council in the most violent manner, and 
demand that the Galilean be put to death 
as soon as he is captured. The discus- 
sion which ensues i?. eminently natural ; 
and when Nicodemus and Joseph of 
Ai'imathea utter their famous protests, 
and step down from their seats, de- 
claring that they will have nothing 
to do with the deed of blood, a thrill 
runs through the vast, audience. Judas 
arrives, accompanied by the money- 
changers, and the money which is to pay 
for the betrayal is counted out to him. 
The figure of the old man in his yellow 
gown, trying each piece on one of the 
tables of the Temple, and then placing it 
in the bag at his side, is sinister and re- 
pulsive. Joseph and Nicodemus are 
reviled by the priests, and t lie council 
breaks up with cries for the blood of the 
prophet who has dared to interfere with 
the corrupt practices in the Temple. 
Next we are shown Adam digging to get 
his bread by the sweat of his brow, and 
Joab giving Amasa a kiss while he 
plunges a dagger into his heart, Adam's 
toil typifying Gethsemane, and Joab the 
treachen of Judas's kiss. 

The great space of (lie proseeuium is 
used with effect in a host of by-play 
which adds immensely to the realism. 
For instance, just before we are shown 
the scene in Gethsemane's Garden, we 
see the betrayer and a delegation of 
priests, escorted by a line of Roman sol- 
diers, pass silently across the stage. 



806 EUROPE TN STORM AND CALM. 

Then the curtain rises upon the Mount and a half hours of close attention, is 

of Olives, and the Saviour, accompanied not sorry to get into the street and to 

by his weary disciples, appears. Peter, rest his brain from the sombre impres- 

James, and John are to watch with the sions of the last few scenes. The thou- 

Man of Sorrows, but they one by one sands of people hasten away in all direc- 

fall asleep, and the Redeemer is left tions to their dinners. At table, in the 

alone with his prayer. Maier's acting hotels, one is served by a Midianite ; has 

here is full of strong self-control; it is his boots blacked by one of the sons of 

never sensational, but always simple and Jacob, and his coat brushed by a Roman 

natural in the highest degree. Thetradi- soldier; a Jewish maiden brings him a 

lions of the mystery demand that blood glass of beer; a priest hires a carriage 

should be seen flowing down the Saviour's in which to leave town at the close of 

cheeks at the close of liis mournful cry, the afternoon's performance ; and Judas 

" Take away this cup from me ; neverthe goes to take a look at his wood-carving, 
less, not as I will, but as Thou wilt." The peasantry, on the day that I was 

The figure kneeling on the rocks, with present, were soaked with rain, and this 

hands outstretched in supplication, and doubtless accounted lor the fact that 

with an angel hovering above it, docs during the intermission, on the plan of 

not move when the clash of arms is similia simUibus, they drank enormous 

heard, and the betrayer arrives. But quantities of beer. Most of them con- 

the disciples huddle toe-ether in con- tented themselves with frugal meals of 

sternatiou. Out of the darkness sud- bread and sausage, and were back in 

denly spring the lights of torches and their places long before the cannon fired. 
lanterns, and Judas, advancing, greets The second half of the Passion-Play is 

the Saviour and kisses him. When Christ unquestionably the most impressive, al- 

declares himself, the soldiers fall to the though it seems to me that no other por- 

grouud, dropping their spears, and the tion of the mystery is so finely executed 

priests and traders are in commotion ; but as that embracing the departure f.om 

presently Malchus, with his comrades, Bethany and the Last Supper. But the 

comes to bind Christ Peter strikes his interest is so concentrated in the second 

noted blow of defense, but is rebuked by part upon the meek, shrinking, pathetic 

the Saviour, when the soldiers brutally figure of Christ, that one thinks of little 

push the captive forward, and inarch oft else. from the moment of the arrest, in 

into the night with him. These soldiers the garden of Gethsemane, Herr Maier 

are played with considerable skill by vil- personifies tin Saviour as the sufferer 

lagers who have had long training. Their for the sins of the world ; he is as clay 

dress, their weapons, and their manners, in the hands of the potter; his slender 

have been made the subjects of careful form bends beneath the blows which it 

research. They give wonderful character receives; his face is pale ; his limbs are 

to their trilling rOles. weak : but he is of majestic sweetness and 

With the departure of Jesus in the noble in his humility. After having seen 

bonds of his captors, and the laineii- him in this character I renounced all 

tations of Peter and John, who have idea of a private interview with him, 

shrunk away from following their Lore, fearing that I might be shocked at the 

and Master, the first part of the Passion- contrast between the man's private life, 

Play closes, and the spectator, after three however good i; might be, and the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



807 



marked excellence of his assumption of 
the Saviour's character in the Passion- 
Play. 

A distinguished — the most distin- 
guished — American actor, who visited 
the Passion-Play tins summer, professed 
a certain sense of disappointment. 
He was prodigal of compliments for 
the marvellous picturesqueness and force 
displayed by the peasantry in their act- 
ing and their use of costumes; but that 
they were men of genius he was inclined 
to deny. "In fact," he said with a 
smile, " we had had our minds so worked 
up by the gorgeous accounts furnished 
of this play that we were prepared to be 
contented with nothing less than the 
supernatural." He argued that it was 
impossible, also, for an actor, in looking 
on at this spectacle, to take a non-pro- 
fessional view of it, anil to forget that. 
the players in the great morality aim to 
he devotional rather than anything else. 
I should not like to have it said that I 
have exaggerated the merits of the 
mystery. But doubtless the imagination 
plays a powerful part, when one re- 
cords his impressions of this curious 
mosaic wrought together on the hare 
hoards of a theatre with such loving 
care and patience. 

In the afternoon the performance 
began at one o'clock, on the day when I 
witnessed it, and it was rather amusing 
to see the discomfited peasants hasten- 
ing hack, with their bread and cheese in 
their hands and the water dripping from 
their garments. The chorus sang. 
Begonnen ist tier Kampf cler Schmer- 
zen, ami the piteous story was brought 
promptly before us. First Christ was 
haled before Annas, and here the 
rude realism of the actors was in sonic' 
small cases repulsive. This scene, like 
those which immediately followed it, was 
acted with great dignity. Maier, in his 



personation of the Saviour from this 
point in the mystery forward to the cru- 
cifixion, allows himself to appear 
literally like clav in the hands of the 
potter; he is the patient sufferer for the 
sins of others; his eloquence is mute, 
and his humility is imposing. For the 
sake of convenience I will pass over the 
Old Testament tableaux, which, in this 
second division of the Passion, are 
shown before each episode in the life of 
the Saviour, and will review them later. 
After the scene before Annas, the cen- 
tral curtain rises, and we are shown a 
loom in the house of Caiaphas. On a 
dais the high-priest, dressed in splendid 
robes, stands, surrounded by his subor- 
dinates, 'and the hound Saviour is pushed 
in before him. from another entrance 
arrive Samuel ami the five witnesses. 
The impressive' presentation of the 
episode in which the Saviour declares 
himself, — " Thou hast said ; nevertheless 
I say unto you, hereafter shall ye see 
the Son of man sitting on the right hand 
of power, and coming in the clouds of 
heaven," was exceedingly striking. 
Caiaphas indulged in a line (it of rage at 
what he considered this blasphemy; 
there was a great clamor, and the assem- 
bly broke out with cries of ••Death! 
Death!" after the Saviour had been 
ordered to appear before the Sanhedrim 
on the morrow. The curtain fell and the 
gloomy picture of Judas in his gown of 
startling color, appeared once more. 
Judas was stung to his conscience's 
quick, and his soliloquy was given with 
a real pathos. Shortly afterward came 
a scene which has provoked no little 
criticism in the orthodox world, because 
of its intense realism. It represents 
Christ sitting, bound and blindfolded, 
on a stool in an anteroom of the Sanhe- 
drim. The brutal soldiers are tor- 
menting him. I confess that it seemed 



808 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

tonic needlessly prolonged and painful, ever laughs at the agony of .Indus. Il 
The soldiers beat their captive, sang seems real and fully justifies the encomi- 
rude songs in his curs, tipped him over, urns lavished upon it by celebrities in the 
and said, "Now if thou art a King, get histrionic world. When the curtain rises 
upon thy throne agaiu," and thrust :i again we are in the Sanhedrim. The 
crown of thorns upon his tortured richly-robed priests are in their places, 
brows. I could hear the deep breathing exulting in the savage decision which 
of the peasants in the seats below me they have lately made, when Judas, hag- 
while this was in progress. The ladies gard and ferocious, rushes in, and in 
seated near me turned awa^ their faces passionate reproach curses the assembly 
and would not look. for the sad work to which it has tempted 
Jiisl before this occurs the scene in him. The high-priests sneeringly bid 
which Peter betrays his Master, accord- him cease his clamor. lie seizes the 
ing to the prophecy. It is quaintly con- money-bag at his girdle, hurls it down 
ceived and executed. We are shown a at the foot of the blood-stained tribunal, 
large hall, with a bevy of querulous maids and rushes out of the hall, leaving the 
lighting a lire, each one of them abusing priests quaking upon theirseats with fear 
the Saviour heartily. Peter ami John and indignation. There is a brief interval 
come in and try to warm themselves with- in the tragedy of Judas, in which we are 
out exciting observation. While Peter is shown a delegation of priests before the 

rubbing his hands before the flames one house of Pilate. A Roman servant steps 

of the women points him out and de- out and eves them scornfully. They tell 

nounces him. He protests, and imme- him that they cannot enter his master's 

diately the cheerful notes of chanticleer house, because it is the residence of an 

are heard behind the scenes. As this is unclean heathen, but that they can speak 

repeated for the third time, there is the with him if he will appear in his balcony. 

clash of arms, the soldiers who have been This elicits from the servant the well 

lounging off duty spring to their feet, and known reproof about straining at a gnat 

the Saviour enters, guarded by a dozen and swallowing a camel, and the delega- 

men. " lie is sentenced to death," says lion passes on. 

Selpha, very simply ; and Peter, shrinking The curtain rises on the suicide of 

away from the mild ami sorrowful gaze Judas. We are shown a wild, weird spot, 

of the man-God, bursts into fears, covers in the centre of which is a small mound 
iiis face with his hands and departs. with a tree growing upon it. I notice 
This is stirring and dramatic, and is so that Mr. Jackson, in his line work on tin' 
well played by the actors that for a Passion-Play, alludes to a Satan which in 
moment il assumes all the proportions of the mysteries of the Middle Ages used to 
reality. At the close of this part of the beckon to .lildas from the branches of 
plav we are shown Peter pouring out his this tree. Happily all such mummery as 
soul in a violent torrent of self-reproach, this was long ago abandoned, ami all 
Words are sadly incompetent for the poor Judas sees is the image of his de- 
description of Hie act in which Judas, spair beckoning him on to death. The 
in race and despair at his own folly, takes acting which precedes I he final despairing 
his life. A certain class of spectators suicide is remarkably good. Judas docs 
profess here and there to discern laugh- not rant nor mouth, but he delivers the 
able places in the Passion-Play, but no one beautiful and affecting lines which Pastor 



EUROPE IX STORM AX/> CALM. 



809 



Daisenberger has put into his mouth, with 
great dignity and pathos, and now and 
then a certain grim sorrow, which cuts to 
the heart. Judas then rushes to the tree, 
and is about to hang himself as the 
curtain falls. As I have remarked in the 
previous chapter he is the Judas of the 
Catholic world, — a Judas who is 1 nit an 
unfortunate instrument in the hands of a 
supernatural power, — a Judas for whom 
we feel decided pity as the victim of fate. 
The characters of Pilate and Herod in 
the Passion-Hay are assumed with much 
skill. Pilate appears upon his balcony, 
accompanied by his guard, and listens to 
the noisy accusations of the high-priests 
and Jews who bring Christ before him. 
He treats them all with mild contempt, 
as members of a conquered race, but 
shows an earnest desire to do justice. 
In this scene the smallest details arc 
lovingly elaborated until the patience of 
the audience is perhaps a trifle tired. 
A messenger enters and tells Pilate of 
his wife's dream. The just Roman 
governor is struck by the vision which 
his wife has had, and he cries out, " Is 
this man from Galilee?" — " Yes," cries 
the rabble, "he is simply a Galilean; 
he is from Nazareth, in the territory of 
King Herod." — "Then take him to his 
own king ; Herod hath come to Jerusa- 
lem to celebrate the feast; let this man 
be taken before him;" and Pilate retires 
from the balcony, leaving the angry 
priests and the mob to follow the bound 
and helpless Saviour to Herod's palace. 
The scene before the monarch is very 
impressive. It is a room in the central 
stage, with Herod on a golden throne, 
dressed in velvet garnished with silver 
and white. When Christ is brought 
before him, Herod rallies him, taunts 
him. says. " If you are a prophet, or a 
god, do a miracle." When he sees that 
nothing can lie made of this treatment. 



he ridicules the Saviour still more, and 
orders the garment of ridicule to be 
placed upon him, and a sceptre in his 
hand. It is impossible to describe the 
rude realism with which this scene is 
given. Herod dispatches the business 
speedily when he discovers that there is 
no amusement to be had, and sends the 
company back to Pilate. ()nce more the 
procession arrives under the Roman 
governor's balcony, and clamors for 
blood; then, in obedience to Pilate's 
command, follows tin- scourging-scene, 
which is suchan exhibition as would not, 
1 suspect, be allowed in America. All 
the rough force of the mediaeval drama 
— the bold, courageous mediaeval drama, 

which told the truth and shamed the 
devil — is here. Christ is scourged until 
it mtiiis as if the human frame can bear 
no more, and his body falls against the 
tormentors. 

The succeeding scenes arc painful in 
the highest degree. If the Old Testa- 
ment tableaux were cut out, and the 
performance were (bus shortened, the 
interest in these last dramatic pictures 
would doubtless be intensified. The fact 
is that the spectators become so tired as 
hardly to be able to appreciate the 
beauty ami sublimity of the mystery, 
There is one grand musical effect, when 
the chorus, on the proscenium, is telling 
the story, and as a sombre refrain we hear 
in the distance the cries of the populace 
for the release of Barabbas and the 
murder of the Saviour. A striking 
picture is formed when Pilate places 
Christ and Barabbas side by side on his 
balcony, and asks them which they will 
have. Barabbas, and the two thieves 
who are brought on in prison garb, with 
ropes on their hands and feet, are terri- 
fying figures. 

When Pilate has washed his hands 
and the judgment of death by crucifixion 



810 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

between the two thieves has been pro- may really be called adequate. The 

uounced upon Christ, the spectators sound of hammers is heard, and, as the 

betray, by uneasy movements in their chorus retires, we are shown the hill of 

seats, and by many expressions, some- Golgotha. The two thieves, tied to their 

thing very like a disinclination lo wit- crosses, form a most lugubrious spectacle. 

ness the coming spectacle. A certain But all attention is concentrated on the 

reverence seems in bid them look with figure of the Saviour <m the central 

fear as well as sorrow upon the awful cross. It is impossible to detect from 

tragedy of the crucifixion. Feasant any place among the spectators the 

women sometimes faint when they see manner in which Herr Maier is sus- 

the procession of the soldiers conducting pended. He seems actually nailed to 

the Saviour to the place of execution, the fatal tree, and the sight is so sail 

I am bound to say that these final pict- that one involuntarily turns his eves 

incs did not impress me so much as the away. Of course the expedients adopted 

earlier ones did. But there has rarely are very simple, and I do not feel railed 

been on any stage a more perfect piece upon to describe them. In front of the 

of ''setting" than that given by the place of execution the men who have just 

Ober-Ammergauers in the "bearing of finished the crucifixion are playing at 

the Cross to Golgotha." The soldiers, dice for the garments of the victims ; on 

the executioners, the centurion, the the right stand the priests, reviling him 

sordid figures of the two thieves drag- whom they believe to be a false prophet; 

ging their crosses, and Herr Maier's and at the back of the cross stands Mary 

slight form weighed down by the heavy with her friends, Mary Magdalen, 

burden until lie falls, as the Saviour fell ; Joseph of Arimatliea. and Nieodemus 

the howling mob. the group of sorrow- and John. The whole story as given in 

ing women, and Mary the mother of the gospel is enacted. Nothing could 

Christ frantic in her grief, the priests, — be finer than the noble attitude of Herr 

all surrounded by a group of three or Maier in the last moments on the cans-, 

four hundred people, — make a most when he turns lus eyes upon his mother 

striking picture. I think this painful and and his beloved disciple, and says. 

touching portion of the play covers half "Woman, behold thy son!" — ••Son. 

an hour. Nothing is omitted, from the, behold thy mother!" or when, at the 

conduct of the good centurion to the last great instant he cries Es ist 

final resolve of Mary to follow to the VOlltmcJlt ! — It is finished '. — and his 

very foot of the cross. When the pro- head falls to one side, 

cession passes on around the corner The storm and the rending of the veil 

and the last robe is lost to sight, there of the Temple in twain are but clumsily 

is an immense sigh of relief. This rendered, but the imagination of the 

revivification of sacred history is won- spectators has been already so worked 

derfully exciting and saddening. upon that everything seems to them re- 

The chorus appears in mourning gar- markable. The executioners proceed in 

incuts, just before the scene of the cruci- the coolest and most brutal manner to 

lixion is disclosed by the raising of the kill the thieves by breaking their limbs 

curtain of the central stage. The music anil ribs with clubs, after which the cen- 

ai this point is particularly effective. I turion pierces the side of the Saviour 

think it is the only occasion in which it with a spear, and a jet of blood springs 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



811 



out. Then the thieves are taken down, 
after which executioners, soldiers, and 
the alarmed and superstitious priest- 
hood retire, and the followers of the 
Saviour are left alone with the crucified 
body. The descent from the cross is 
copied from the noted painting by 
Rubens, and forms a beautiful group. 
The descent, the mourning, the anoint- 
ment, the placing of the body in the 
sepulchre, are performed with a tender- 
ness, solemnity, and grace, beyond all 
praise. While this was in progress I 
really felt that I was witnessing a 
religious ceremony. 

The resurrection and the ascension are 
but inadequately represented. It would 
be far better for the Ober-Ammergauers 
to rest their efforts with the close of 
the crucifixion scene, but one is always 
compelled to bear in mind that they are 
aiming at the recital of the whole story 
— in the fullest if not always the most 
dramatic manner. The final chorus : — 

" Bringt Lob und Preis dem Hachsten dar, 
Di'in Lamrae tins getodtet war, 
Halleluja! Halleluja! " 

produces an exquisite effect. As the 
last members of the chorus disappear 
from the stage at the close of the •■ As- 
cension," the Passion-Play closes. 

The tableaux from the Old Testament 
in the second portion of this curious 
mystery are in many respects liner than 
those in the first section, but they do not 
appeal to the sympathies of the specta- 



tors. For instance, just before the res- 
urrection, we are shown " Jonas cast on 
dry land by the whale," — a veritable 
New England primer conception of this 
curious event: and this is followed by 
"the Israelites crossing the Red Sea in 
safety." The bearing of the cross to 
Golgotha is prefigured l>\ " Young Isaac 
carrying the altar-wood up Mt. Moriah ;" 
and the healing and atoning virtues of the 

cross are symbolized by the magical effects 
which Moses produced when he raised the 
brazen serpent on a cross in the wilder- 
ness. In this tableau three hundred 
persons take part. A very noble history 
picture, which I ought to have mentioned 
in its proper place, is •• Joseph made 
Ruler over Egypt." In this there are 
evidences that the Ober-Ammergauers 
must have spent their money without 
stint in costumes, and the thousand and 
one properties necessary for such a re- 
production, a festival in the times of the 
Pharaohs. 

There were various rumors at the time 
that the celebrated mystery will never be 
performed again. Those who arc famil- 
iar with the history of the vow made by 
the Ober-Ammergauers to perform it 
indefinitely every ten years will not 
believe them likely to change their minds, 
it is a beautiful, touching, holy, and 
noble dramatic sketch of the most won- 
derful life and death on record, and he 
who can go away from it without re- 
ceiving some beneficial lessons must 
have a very hard heart, indeed. 



812 



EUROPE I.Y STOMA! AND CALM. 



CHAPTER NINETY-TW< ). 

Vienna, where the East meets the West. - The Emperor of Austria. — His Simple Life. — The Slavs anil 
Hungarians. — Berlin ami Bismarck. — The ajiciH icrntan Emperor. — Startling Progress of ( lerman 
Industry. — The Thrones of the North. — Nihilism ami Socialism. -Colonial Schemes. -Possihlc 
Absorption of the Small Countries of Europe. 



ONG before the new and astonish- ■•And." said the gentleman, with a 

-L-^ iny; development of the struggling smile, "I will transfer the whole lot to 

nations in south-eastern Europe, — you if you will pay into my hands fifty 

development which has been bill briefly gulden." 

described in these pages, — Vienna was While the financial craze lasted in 

beginning to feel a new commercial in i - southern Germany there was the usual 

pulse, and to profil by the wealth poured growth of buildings, and even the usu- 

into her coffers by speculators, mer- ally sedate and cautious government 

chants fr the East and West, and by caught the infection, and began a series 

the hundreds of luxury-loving aristocrats of lofty piles, parliament houses and 
from all the lands bordering on the municipal structures, which had to re- 
Orient. ( Hd Vienna, picturesque and main unfinished with scaffoldings about 
rather dirty, was gradually environed by them for many a lone year after the 
a magnificent " ring " of statelv palaces, corner-stones were laid. 
not specially remarkable for refined taste, The famous Ring, or circular boulevard 
but of noble proportions, and, taken col- extending around the whole of old Vienna 
lectively, more imposing than auvthing is one of the ga\'est, most picturesque, 
else in Germany. and most charming promenades in Eu- 
Yienna is now a town containing more rope. In fact Vienna is distinctly gay. 
than one million and one hundred thou- There the primness and ceremonial still- 
sand inhabitants within its fortifications, ness of western Europe begin to fade 
and it would seem as if at least one-fifth into the harmonious irregularity of the 
of these inhabitants were struggling in Orient. As in Berlin everything seems 
the money-market for sudden riches. The to be constructed with a view to bring- 
story of the Krach, as it was so appro- tug out the angles, so. in Vienna, all (he 
priately called, — the great financial crash corners art' rounded off. Colors are 
which came, a few years ago, to warn the bright, and ofteu dazzling; music is 
incautious Viennese that all was not voluptuous; wines and sweets, fruits 
gold that glittered, and reduced, in the and ices, are displayed in tempting 

twinkling of an eye, thousands of people, profusion. Out-of-door life abounds, 
who had fancied themselves millionaires, and the people are merry and free in 
to absolute beggarj - , — is appalling. 1 their manners. They have an abun- 
was once shown, while visiting the dant humor. The town is filled with 
mansion of a well-known Vienna gentle- line horses, finely dressed men. heauti- 
man, a heap of stocks which originally ful women, with soldiers in every con- 
represented 10t>,<MH) Austrian gulden. eeivablc tint of uniform. The East and 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



si;; 



the West here touch hands, but there 
is a Leaning towards the Orient. Aus- 
tria does not bear her name in vain. 
She is the "Empire of the East;" or, 
rather, she is determined so to be, de- 
spite Russian intrigue and the thousand 
obstacles which have weighed upon her 
progress to the sea and towards Con- 
stantinople. The composite character 
of the population of the empire-king- 
dom is felt and seen everywhere. The 
German language, which is the official 
one in Austria, and which rules supreme 
at the court theatres and at the opera, 
is not so often heard in the street as 
the jolly but highly erratic Viennese 
dialect, against which the northern 
German may butt his head without 
comprehending it. The southern Slav 
contributes hi;: plaintive and imagina- 
tive temperament to the composition of 
the Vienna populace. 

The north Germans say that Vienna is 
not a German city ; and they say this as 
if it were a reproach. Although the 
Catholic church is the state religion, 
and is powerful, and prominent in all 
public places, maintaining the splendid 
out-of-door processions and ceremonials 
which have been banished from most of 
the northern capitals, there are Greek 
and Armenian Catholics, Protestants, 
Byzantine Greeks and Jews, in plenty 
to maintain their cemeteries, monasteries, 
nunneries, and churches in Vienna. 

In the superb cathedral of St. Stephen, 
which springs with airy grace from its 
ancient site in the very centre of the old 
city, the Catholic ritual is seen in splen- 
dor such as is scarcely to be found else- 
where outside of Spain. Close by one 
may peep into a Jewish synagogue. The 
old feeling of intolerance, the old pas- 
sion lor illiberalism which once charac- 
terized Austrian governments, appears 
to have melted away. Austria, under 



the influence of her disasters and the 
changes rendered necessary by them, 
has become liberal and progressive ; is 
anxious for education, for elevation of 
the masses, instead of that military 
glory which was so completely over- 
shadowed on the Held of Sadowa, and 
which is such a vanity and vexation of 
spirit even after it is obtained. 

The Emperor of Austria is one of 
those wise men who has learned by ex- 
perience; who knows that politics is the 
science of expedients, and who has 
moulded himself to the times Once a 
violent opponent of Hungarian expan- 
sion, he has come to be King of Hungary 
as well as Emperor of Austria ; has 
llonrishcd his sword to the four corners of 
flu 1 earth, and sworn to defend Hungary 
and its people from invasion coming from 
any quarter, and has submitted for years 
with exemplary patience to the predomi- 
nance in the empire-kingdom's ministerial 
councils of Hungarian statesmen, who, on 
the whole, have done fairly well for both 
countries. He has the tenacity and the 
unfaltering patience of the Ilapsburgs ; 
and he has, too, their noble fortune, 
which he uses with taste and with gener- 
osity. One of the richest men in Europe. 
he fosters literature, music, and art. 
His private library is that of a man of 
letters. He is a careful and conscien- 
tious administrator, — up in the morning 
at five o'clock', winter and summer, ready 
after prayers for his simple breakfast of 
bread and coffee, and then at work at 
his desk at eleven, with no companion 
save his secretary and one of the long 
cigars, called Virginias, of which the 
Viennese are so fond. Towards noon he 
has pot-luck and a glass of beer, like 
the simplest of his subjects ; then works 
on (unless sonic ceremony or state 
affair calls him from the palace) in his 
private office until dinner-time, when he 



S14 



EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 



meets liis family and spends an hour or 
two with them. 

His private office is between his 
dressing-room and the Council hall, in 
which the ministers meet. Over his 
plain office-table hang the portraits of 
his children, and two line pictures of the 
Empress painted by Winterhalter. He 
is :i good listener, is never imperative, 




EMPEItOE OF AUSTRIA 

hates phrases and long speeches, is 
unaffected and simple in his address, 
and now and then goes down among 
the people, conversing 1'reely with 
them. The Catholic church claims his 
humblest devotion. Once every year lie 
is seen on fool and bareheaded, behind 
tin' archbishop, walking through the 
streets: and once each year, also, the 
Emperor and Empress attend in :i room 
in the palace upon a delegation of the 
poor, whose feet they wash in token of 
humility. The Emperor, although unfor- 
tunate as a soldier, is fond of the army. 



and never appears to such advantage as 
in uniform. He is an intrepid hunter; 
fond of the dangerous spoils in the 
Austrian Alps, where chasing the cha- 
mois is by no means a pastime for in- 
experienced sportsmen. In the Hunga- 
rian mountains, as at Schcenbrunn or at 
Isehl, he may often be seen clad in a 
simple frock, and, with a huge stick in 
his hand, walking through the Melds of 
some farm and chatting with the farmers. 
When he visits Budapest the old Hun- 
garian city brines out its many splendors 
to lay them at his feet ; and he has the 
singular advantage of being a popular 
monarch in two countries, radically dif- 
ferent from each other. 

In public, at the opera, at state balls 
or diplomatic receptions, he has the 
languid era.,.,, and elaborate manners 
of the aristocracy of which ho is the 
head. Austria is one of the few Eu- 
ropean countries which can still show a 
veritable aristocracy, whose privileges 
have not been cut down, and who have 
not learned to yield a little in pres- 
ence of the invading democracy. The 
manners of the middle and lower classes 
show that there is little tendency as yet 
to assail the aristocrat in his position. 

Vienna has a season like London, 
when everything is doubled or tripled in 
price ; when every desirable apartment 
in the great hotels and mansions, the 
numerous palaces and villas, is taken up 
by country gentlemen, with interminable 
suites of servants. Then the handsome 
capital is wild with excitement; the 
streets are thronged with rapidly rolling 
carriages ; the operas and theatres are 
packed : the parks are brilliant with 
equestrians ; museums and the fashion- 
able restaurants are tilled, and servants 
are content only with gratuities which 
would seem extravagant and princely 
elsewhere. 



EUROPE IN STO/.'.V AND CALM. 



815 



The Vienna grand opera is incom- 
parably the best in Europe. In point 
of scenic completeness it is superior to 
that of Paris, while the monument in 
which the opera is shrined is not so 
imposing as the Parisian one. All 
through the pleasant weather the Vien- 
nese adopt every slightest pretext for 
assembling in the beautiful halls with 
which the city is amply supplied, to 
listen to the bewitching music of the 
.Strauss brethren, who are the spoiled 
children of Austria, and who sum up 
in their mad waltzes the Viennese 
spirit, its deep passion of the South and 
mysterious languor of the Orient, its 
dash of gypsy vagabondage, — -all blended 
together in proportions which, according 
to the verdict of the whole civilized 
world, are positively enchanting. 

The Viennese are the most hospita- 
ble of peoples, and a more splendid 
succession of f&tes than that given dur- 
ing the sessions of the International 
Literary Congress, in 1881, has rarely 
been seen. These festivals were held 
both in public halls and in private man- 
sions. The Mayor and municipality 
entertained in the famous Blumen Saal, 
and hundreds of ladies and gentlemen 
there attended a kind of informal feast, 
in which the lusty wines from the vine- 
yards about Vienna played a prominent 
part. 

In midsummer there are lew more 
charming sights than Vienna, on its 
plain opposite the Blue Danube, with 
the abrupt height of (he Kahlenberg 
nearby. All around are vineyards and 
gardens ; pretty valleys leading up to 
rugged mountains ; rich expanses of 
waving green ; ancient villages, mon- 
asteries, and churches. It is but a short 
distance to Presburg, once the pretty 
capital of Hungary, now a sleepy old 
city, literally embowered in vines. 



From Vienna and Budapest one or 
two daily express trains run with deco- 
rous gravity. There is not much social 
intercourse between the two capitals. 
Pest is a superb new quarter, as new as 
Chicago, and built up. like Chicago, out 
of profits made on grain. The Danube 
here is large and majestic, and the con- 
trast of rocky old Ofen on the right bank 
with new and dazzling Pest on the left 
bank of the stream is most striking. 
From Vienna to Pest the beautiful Aus- 
trian river is literally the blue Danube, — 
the Danube of the Strauss waltzes and 
the popular ballads, — a lovelier stream 
than the Rhine, and flowing past almost 
as many noble ruins as its northern 
sister can boast. With this great high- 
way to the Orient what wonder is it 
that Austria has irresistible tendencies 
towards Constantinople and the Past! 

The Hungarians, who now number 
nearly fifteen millions, are such stem 
enemies of the Russians that they are 
glad to see Austria assuming prominence 

as a great Slavic empire, although they 
lea i- that they may themselves one day 
be surrounded and swamped when the 
great unification of the Slavs takes 
place. 

Pel ween these capitals of the southern 
empire-kingdom and that of the German 
empire, the city of the Hohenzollerns, 
in its sandy plain on either side of the 
Spree, there is the widest contrast of all 
sorts, and especially in the men who hold 
the helm of state in either. Nowa- 
days in Europe when any one thinks 
of Berlin he also thinks of Bismarck. 
The great Chancellor has dwarfed every- 
thing else in Germany ; his colossal statue 
overtops the Emperor; the talented and 
cultivated Crown Prince, all the shining 
lights of the military party, and of course 
all the literary and artistic celebrities. 
In fact, so far as the rest of Europe is 



816 



EUnOTF IX STORM AND CALM. 



concerned, < !ermany is a kind of luminous 
mist, out of which arises the towering 
figure of the great unifier and wire- 
puller. 

Prince Bismarck never fails ii> place 
himself in the second rank when he is 
spoken of in connection with German 
|M>!ilirs, but lit' by ii" means believes 




EMPEROR WILLIAM OF GERMANY. 

that he occupies such rank, tie is 
proud of being called the " King's man : " 
but it would be more just lo call him 
tin' man who supports the King, or the 
Emperor. 

The aged German sovereign is a fine 
figure-head, the beau iili-nl of ;i veteran 
soldier and of a finished gentleman, — 
one of the hist of the inonarclis who 
fed that they rule by incontrovertible 
right, and (hat if any concession lie 
made to popular sovereignty it is out of 
generosity, rendered easy by the security 
of their own positions. The Emperor 
has his importance in these Inter years. 



because it is felt that he is a kind of 
"stop-gap;" that he stands in the 
breach to prevent hostile collision be- 
tween the great northern powers which 
have assumed such prominence in the 
last three decades ; in other words, that . 
so lone- as lie lives, Russia will not fight 
( lermany. 

When the Emperor William disap- 
pears possibly the attitude of Russia to 
Germany may change. The thrones of 
the two countries will he occupied by 
men of undisputed will-power, wide- 
reaching ambition, and considerable hos- 
tility to each other's aims. For the last 
ten years it has been sufficient, whenever 
there was a disturbance of Russian opin- 
ion against Germany, for the two Em- 
perors to give fresh proofs of their mutual 
good-will i 'der to allay all excite- 
ment. 

Alexander has gone now. beckoned 
away by the bony hand of that spectre, 
which, as M. Thiers so truly said, " has 
left France and gone promenading in the 
North." But Alexander's son, anti- 
German as he is in feeling, will not he 
likely to move his hand against Germany 
while the venerable Emperor William 
lives. 

Berlin and Bismarck, Bismarck and 
Berlin; — these words have been heard 
almost constantly in Europe since 1878. 
With the Berlin Congress came the 
definite recognition of the fact that 
Europe must go to Berlin for leave and 
license to carry out its plans, and from 
the Congress which revised the Treaty 
of San Stefano to the conference which 
carved out the Congo State, in this 
present year, German predominance and 
prestige have grown and strengthened 
until they are becoming to certain high- 
spirited nations somewhat irksome and 
exasperating. The efforts of Great 
Britain to ignore the leading rdle of 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



Si 7 



Germany are well known. Thus far 
they have been without practical result ; 
not even so distinguished a Liberal as 
Mi 1 . Gladstone finding it easy lo tilt 
against the Bismarckian windmill with- 
out breaking a few lances and getting 
severely bruised. 

The German position in Europe is in 
many respects most singular; a nation 
which has carved out its unity at the 
point of the sword finds itself at the 
height of power, possessing without 
question the finest military organization 
in the world, equally equipped for offense 
aud defense, yet earnestly striving to 
maintain peace, and by all reasonable 
means to keep its own armies out of 
action. While surrounding nations, and 
in fact most of the nations of the world, 
have been looking upon Germany for 
the last eighteen years in constant ex- 
pectation of her downfall, because of Ihe 
drain upon her resources caused by the 
maintenance of her army, Germany has 
managed to develop her industry and 
commerce in a remarkable degree, and 
to-day competes with France and Eng- 
land in those great foreign markets 
which the Briton and the Gaul once 
proudly claimed as exclusively their 
own. A careful observer is forced to 
the conclusion that Germany maintains 
its army for the purpose of overawing 
Europe, and getting its own way in 
everything by a display of the force 
which can compel assent it' persuasion 
fails. 

The French find to their cost that the 
industrial triumph of Germany is greater 
than her military triumph. The Ger- 
mans, who so long passed for being slow 
and unambitious, have proved the 
quickest and keenest traders in Europe. 
With workmen carefully and symmetri- 
cally educated ; with a country tilled 
with the best of schools, general and 



technical ; with the sinews of men 
trained by the best and most intelligent 
physical exercises in and out of the 
army, — Germany has a body of workmen 
surpassed in no country, and equalled in 
few. These workmen can and do live 
on small wages ; they are scattered about 
in diminutive communities, where housing 
and food are cheap and easily obtainable, 
and they pull together in the industrial 
war against the rest of the world, as 
they did in the military struggle for 
supremacy for which they had been 
preparing through fifty years of silent 
study. 

The indisputable triumphs of northern 
and middle Germany in industry and in 
the political world could not have been 
achieved without the masterly leadership 
of Prince Bismarck ; and the nation, 
appreciating this, associates his name 
with every national move. His powers 
are of course limited ; but he is unwilling 
to confess this, and he tries to invent 
remedies for everything, even for the 
crying curse of Socialism, which is eat- 
ing out the heart of many great German 
communities, and preparing for a revolu- 
tion, which may be put off, but cannot, 
he permanently averted. lie bends the 
currents of trade towards Germany, or 
distributes them through it. His hand 
is seen in the boring of the St. Gothard 
Tunnel, aud the opening of new com- 
mercial currents towards Genoa and the 
Southern Seas, just as it is seen in the 
creation of syndicates in Hamburg for 
monopolizing the African trade in the 
very teeth of England and France, both 
of which countries feel that they must 
have Africa at all hazards. 

The sudden arrival of Germany upon 
the field of colonial enterprise, two or 
three years ago. created an almost ludi- 
crous consternation in European circles. 
France, which had been told by the 



Ms 



/■/ ROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



dving' Lithe thai it must colonize it' it 
wished for military prestige anywhere, 
as she could no longer hope for it in 
Fkirope, has expanded her dominion in 

North Africa, and even knocked at the 
doors of the celestial empire. England, 
in her jealousy of France, has narrowly 
escaped coining to blows with her neigh- 




EMPEROR OF RUSSIA. 

bor and friend, and the English press 
has been full of allusions to the old days 
when France and England were con- 
stantly jostling each other in the field 
of colonial conquest. Italy and Spain, 
fretting within their narrow bounds, and 
anxious for glory beyond seas, have 
cast covetous eyes upon the African 
lands near them. Russia has pushed 
her standards dangerously near the gates 
of India, hurrying on across the deserts 
in Central Asia to (he gardens just 
beyond them. Austria has used up her 
surplus activity in Arctic expeditions, for 
lack of something better. Meantime 
Germany, which has been quietly and 



silently building a vast fleet, having got 
it into shape for service, steps forth 
upon the colonial field, ami announces 
her decision to take a portion of Africa. 
It would be difficult to imagine a more 
high-handed proceeding than that of the 
German government in its acquisition of 
African territory; yet other European 
countries can do nothing to prevent it, 
and are compelled to sit around the 
diplomatic table in Berlin to make sure 
that they can keep their own colonies. 

The northern [lowers, Russia and Ger- 
many, present the spectacle of great 
nations, not spontaneously acting in 
obedience to some inherited 'policy of 
expansion or unification, but driven or 
moulded into certain courses by the will 
of strong men. I suppose these nations 
may say that their collective will has 
been summed up in certain individuals. 
In both countries there is protest, con- 
stant and strong, against the one-man 
power and the injustice and hardship 
which it necessarily inflicts on numerous 
classes. Socialism in Germany is but a 
mask for the advanced, untaught, and 
dangerous republicanism which Europe 
must lwive, before it can have an en- 
lightened and self -controlling democracy. 
Nihilism in Russia, with its men grovel- 
ling in the earth to lay mines of pow- 
der, or slinking through corridors with 
daggers in their hands, or holding meet- 
ings in remote and gloomy forests, is 
another and a. ruder phase of the repub- 
lican movement. The most terrible form 
of nihilism, manifested in the doctrine of 
the destructionists, who wish to do away 
with society without substituting any- 
thing in its place, who seem to have de- 
voted their existence to the work of mere 
tearing down, is the result of the terrible 
repression in Russia. Emperor William 
of Germany escaped the assassin's hand, 
although he was struck at with the same 



EUROl'H IN STORM AND CALM. 



819 



unrelenting persistence and malevolence 
that finally laid the Emperor Alexander 
of Russia in his grave. Bismarck, all 
powerful as he seems, realizes that he 
treads on a volcano, and cannot affirm 
that an eruption may not overwhelm 
him just as he seems about to " crown 
the edifice " at the end of his illustrious 
career. 

Should Bismarck live to b" a very old 
man many strange things, now only 
whispered about in Europe, might 
become actualities. Those persons who 
talk with hated breath of the absorption 
of Holland and Switzerland into the 
German Empire as an impossibility 
might find that it was quite within the 
scope of Bismarck's genius. Having 
demonstrated his power to draw the 
centre of control to Berlin, and to main- 
tain it there, why might he not boldly 
change the map of Europe a little more ? 
Heaven knows it has been changed fre- 
quently enough in the last half genera- 
tion ! Besides, he is a master of the 
policy of " give and take." As in the 
Congo Conference he brought the Erench, 
his most implacable enemies, to cooperate 
with him simply because they knew they 
would profit materially by so doing; so 
if he chose to attack the autonomy of 
the brave little countries which have a 
Germanic tinge, he might find plenty of 
bribes with which to stop the mouths of 
the objectors. 

The industrial progress of Germany is 
so powerful that it may break down all 
barriers which would keep it from a 
wide outlet upon the Northern sea, and 
which might claim complete control of 
the great highwajs that, burrowing 
under the Alps, lead out to the seas 
which wash the shores of the Italian 
peninsula. 

Europe has become so accustomed to 
regard Prince Bismarck as magnificently 



permanent that it would be shocked to 
its centre if he were to be carried off in 
one of his many illnesses. In recent 
years he has shown symptoms of great 
and general fatigue, manifest principally 
in a petulance quite astonishing in one 
of his robust intellect, against any who 
dare to cross even his least important 
plans. In his long fight with the Ultra- 
montanes he was no more imperious than 
he is on the simple matter of some 
measure of home taxation. He is a 
driver who keeps his horses well in hand, 
reaily to flourish the whip whenever there 
is any manifestation of independence on 
the part of the steeds. A Frenchman 
has called him " the Mikado of Ger- 
many." This rather indefinite definition 
admirably hits the general French opinion 
of the great man. It is certain that 
Bismarck has maintained his dignity 
better than Thiers, better than Guizot, 
better than Beaconsfield, in carrying 
through the gigantic schemes in which 
he has been engaged. He has, however, 
had a more docile people to handle than 
the French or the English, who rebel 
more readily against tin 1 display of 
authority than the Germans, with their 
memories of the great Frederick, can for 
a long time hope to do. 

At Friederiehsruhe or at Varzin, in 
his cabinet or in the parliament in Berlin, 
he is the unyielding master, who brings 
the dart of Jove into play the moment 
that he finds persuasion not strong 
enough. An American is reluctantly 
forced to the conclusion that Europe is. 
on the whole, fond of being bullied, and 
will fall at the feet of him who can bully 
with the roundest voice and the biggest 
fist. In very recent days Prince Bis- 
marck has, by his personal influence on 
general European affairs, forced the 
German nation more prominently into 
view than ever before. Not satisfied 



820 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



with carving a German colonial empire 
in Africa, out of the territories which he 
took bodilyfrom under the grip of France 
and England, he now assumes to be the 
arbiter of Egyptian affairs, and will not 
give England peace until she consents to 
bring Egypt, as everything else lias been 
brought, on to the' green cloth at Berlin. 
It is from the North alone that per- 



mission for the definite reopening of the 
•• Eastern Question" can be obtained; 
and the country which, twenty years 
ago, would scarcely have been considered 
in the arrangement of matters in the 
East, is now the one which must be first 
consulted by those who were wont, to 
look upon her as a second or third class 
power. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



821 



CHAPTER NINETY-THREE. 



The Storm of Europe diverted into Africa.— How Great Britain was drawn into Egyptian Affair-. — 
The Revolt of Arabi. — Rise of El Mahdi. — ( iordon to the Rescue. — The Long Siege of Khar- 
toum. — Fall of the Soudanese Stronghold and Reported Death of (iordon. —The Recall ol 
Wolseley. 



THE storm of Europe is not till con- 
fined within its narrow boundaries, 
but reaches over the world, and dis- 
charges its lightnings, sweeps with its 
terrible winds, and devastates with its 
floods and fires. Even now two Euro- 
pean powers, that are also Asiatic powers, 
are confronting each other in Afghanis- 
tan ; and who dare say that war in 
Europe may not result from this dispute 
of Russia and Great Britain? — the latter 
barring now, as so often before, the way 
of the Muscovite empire to the sea, 
shutting up the path to the Persian Gulf, 
as it has forbidden the Straits of the 
Bosphorus and the prize of Constanti- 
nople In Africa, as we shall see later, 
the powers of Europe meet peacefully 
now, — thanks to Stanley and King Leo- 
pold, and. above all, to Bismarck. — upon 
the Congo ; but occasion of strife there 
is yet remote. Elsewhere in Africa also 
tin' ] xnvers meet and conflict, at the 
mouth of the Nile and at ancient Cairo, 
where the all-potent interests of trade 
and money have compelled the govern- 
ments of France, England, Germany, 
and Italy, to concern themselves in the 
government of Egypt, and consequently 
in the religion of Islam. The business 
interests of all are identical, but no other 
power has as much at stake in Egypt as 
Great Britain, for not only is it of 
moment to her that the government 
should be stable, solvent, and willing to 
pay the interest on its immense debts, 



lull through Egyptian territory passes 
the Suez Canal, the gateway to the great 
Indian empire, built by the French De 
Lesseps, but now chiefly owned by (Meat 
Britain. It is neutral in case of war for 
the world's commerce, but the fortunes 
of war do not always respect the most 
guarded of agreements. The necessity 
of keeping at the head of affairs in 
Egypt a government that could lie man- 
aged so as to secure the moneyed inter- 
cuts of Europe was what provoked the 
one war which Mr. Gladstone's late gov- 
ernment originated, for it inherited the 
other wars it has taken part in from 
Lord Beacousfield's "Jingo" policy. So 
when, in September, 1881, Arabi Bey, a 
colonel in the Egyptian tinny, and others 
of his rank, headed an insurrection to 
demand a new ministry; and when, dis- 
satisfied with the new ministry when it 
was given, and still more dissatisfied 
when foreign intervention came, the 
colonels drew the army into active rebel- 
lion ; there was nothing for Great Britain 
to do but put down the patriots, as they 
called themselves. Thus started the 
trouble of the English in Egypt. Arabi 
was an Egyptian, and. the first of Egyp- 
tian blood who had held so high a rank 
among the Turks, made much out of his 
professionof patriot. He was an ignorant 
man, — he could not lead Arabic even; 
lint he knew his country had been abused 
long enough by its Turkish rulers, who 
had plundered it by the Sultan's imposts 



822 



EUROPE TN STORM AND CALM. 



and for their own extravagances, and 
had brought it into debt on every hand, 
grinding the luckless fellaheen to the 
earth under hopeless oppression. The 
man was incompetent to his rdle of 
savior, and his success would have been 
ruinous to his country, but there was 
never any chance of his succeeding. At 
first there was talk of the Sultan, the 

Khedive's suzerain, taking possession of 
the land in force: but England would 
not have allowed that: it would have 
made matters worse instead of better. 
There was also talk of joint occupation 
by England and France, but finally the 
policing of Egypt, the protecting of its 
helpless nominal ruler, the Khedive, and 
the putting- down of the rebellion of the 
colonels, was committed to England 
alone; and how she accomplished those 
tasks we need not recall in detail. 

As before said. Arabi was ignorant ; 
the present Khedive recently related an 
amusing instance of the depth of his 
ignorance. " I shall never forget," he 
said, " one incident that occurred while 
he was secretary of war. It was at the 
time of the excitement about the Italians 
taking Asab on the Red Sea. It was at 
a meeting of the council where I pre- 
sided. Arabi said, ' Italy must not he 
allowed to do this. We will prevent it 
by destroying the Suez Canal so that 
they cannot get to the Red Sea.' I said, 
1 What do you mean? You will destroy 
the Suez Canal ? Why. the Sue/. Canal is 
an international highway, and you would 
not be permitted to do it. Besides, if 
you diil, you would not prevent the 
Italians sending their ships around by 
the Cape of Good Hope and entering the 
Red Sea from the south.' — ' What,' said 
Arabi, ' is there another way of getting 
to the Red Sea than by way of the canal?' 
The fact was that he had not the slightest 
idea of the shape or raison d'etre of the 



Red Sea, though it is a body so inti- 
mately connected with Egypt that it may 
almost be said to lie Egyptian." Not 
only was he ignorant, but we fear he 
must be confessed a coward ; his sole 
virtue was his blind feeling that every- 
thing was wrong, the fellaheen abused, 
ami the foreign officers, who really 
owned the country, much too arrogant; 
but this, and the small education ho had 
in military affairs, did not suffice for the 
occasion. Alexandria was bombarded 
July 1 1 , 1882 ; Sir ( iarnct Wolseley, who 
had won a reputation in the Ashantee 
war, arrived to take command of the 
British troops in the Khedive's service, 
August 15, and Arabi and his army of 
sixty thousand Egyptians were utterly 
routed at Tcl-el-Kebir on September 13, 
only three days over a year since the 
day when he, at the head of four thou- 
sand men, had confronted the Khedive 
with a demand for the resignation of the 
ministry and the formation of a. new 
one, the assembly of the Notables, and 
a constitution. Wolseley was made a 
baron for Tel-el-Kebir, and Arabi went 
to prison, was afterward tried for treason. 
and exiled to Ceylon, where lie now 
lives, at the cost of the Egyptian govern- 
ment, in a comfortable house at Colombo. 
He is trying to learn English, and is 
supposed to be ambitious of literary 
fame in a history of his times, while 
without question he is getting up a col- 
lection of autographs of his visitors, who 

all sign their names in his big 1 k. 

While the English were finishing this 
job, another much more troublesome one 
was preparing for them in Upper Egypt. 
In July, 1881, five months after the 
military riot in which Arabi first came 
into notoriety, and when discontent was 
glowing every day, came tiie news of 
the appearance of a prophet in the Sou- 
dan, who asserted that lie was the Mahdi. 



EUROrF IN ST OEM AND CALM. 



823 



the great savior and reorganize]' of 
Islam This was an event ominous of 
dire disaster or not, according as he 
should prove able to impose himself upon 
the people, for there have been many 
false prophets presenting that claim, who 
have had sometimes great success for a 
time, but sometimes also none at all. 
The idea of the Mahdi is the same with 
the idea of the Messiah ; it is the Persian 
version in fact of the Judaic original. 
When everything is getting as bad as 
possible in Islam, and Satan, or the 
Beast of the Apocalypse, or Antichrist, 
or the false prophet, whom the doctrine 
of Islam calls Deddjal (the Impostor) — 
appears, — then the true prophet is to 
come This personage must be of the 
family of Mahomet ; at the head of the 
true believers he will master, one by one, 
the Moslem kingdoms, and his title will 
be El Mahdi, or He who is led. At the 
coming of Deddjal, too, Jesus is to 
descend from heaven, but not to play 
the foremost part, as in Christian proph- 
ecy, but as assistant to the Mahdi, 
who will be his Imam, after whom he 
will repeat his prayers. Jinny Mahdis 
have had their day, and their failure has 
proved them false prophets ; this one. now 
he has failed, will be fatalistically regarded 
as another, and the Moslems will proceed 
to look for the true Mahdi, who should 
come after the false. He had a good 
many of the marks ; he bore the same 
name as the Prophet, Mohammed Ahmed ; 
his father bore the same name as the 
Prophet's father, Abdallah ; his mother, 
like the Prophet's mother, was Amina ; 
he was forty years old when he appeared, 
and that is the sacred age, — Mahomet's 
own age at his revelation; and, more- 
over, he had been carefully brought up 
as a candidate for the position. Yet 
against these advantages it must be 
said that the ulemas declared him an 



impostor, and the cherif of Mecca, the 
head of the sacred tribe of the Koreish, 
pronounced him the false prophet. 
However that may be, Mohammed 
Ahmed has been constantly growing in 
power to this day, when he occupies 
nearly all the Soudan, and he has cost 
the English much money, a great many 
soldiers, and several generals, chief 




EL MAHDI. 

among them the strange hero known as 
" Chinese ( lordon." 

The first attempt to bring the Mahdi 
to terms was disastrous to the small de- 
tachment charged with the duty; an- 
other fared no better, and in . I line. l<s,s-_\ 
he, with his Soudanese, swept out of ex- 
istence the Egyptian army of the Soudan, 
numbering six thousand men, under Yus- 
suf Pasha, slaying all but a few soldiers. 
From that victory la' began offensive 
war. overran the wide country without 
check, and brought to his side nearly 
every tribe of the region. He was de- 



824 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



feated at Barn and again in his liner 
assaults on El Obeid, capital of Ivordo- 
fan, where he was thrice repulsed and 
lost, it is said, ten thousand men. But 
afterward, early in 1883, he took Bara, 
and then El Obeid surrendered, and 
nearly all its garrison took service with 
him, and he made the town his dwelling- 
place. It was not until after this tri- 
umphant career, and the establishment 
of a mighty prestige with the lawless 
tribes of the region, that the Egyptian gov- 
ernment began to consider the necessity 
of suppressing his formidable rebellion. 
It must not lie forgotten that this region 
of the Soudan, populated by intelligent. 
vigorous and free races, had been for 
many years subjected to the grossest 
tyranny and exaction, under the reign of 
the Khedive Ismail and his pi'edecessor. 
Before this it was that Charles George 
Gordon had had his wonderful career as 
Governor-General of the Soudan, in 
which In 1 had greatly lightened the bur- 
den of tin- cruel rule of Egypt, and the 
atrocities of the slave-trade. His was 
the first administration in which hu- 
manity and respect for the rights of the 
Soudanese had been shown, and its ex- 
perience had intensified the discontent 

of the people, and they Were rile for 

revolt when the Mahdi gave them the 
opportunity and impulse. It was a scat- 
ered popular movement that the Egyp- 
tian government now undertook to put 
down. The Khedive, after the fall of 
El Obeid, organized such an army as he 
could lo oppose the dangerous rising. 

and sent it thither under the ci nand 

of an Englishman, Hicks Pasha. Abd- 
el Kader, an Arab, with a small force, 
had already entered Nennaar and gained 
some success, when Hicks arrived at 
Khartoum, in March. At first, it seemed 
that Hicks would save the fortunes of 
the Khedive's rule. He defeated a large 



force in Sennaar, April 29, and the 
Mahdi's vizier was among the slain, 
while the Mahdi himself was shortly 
after beaten, and tied to Kordofan. 
Thereafter for months Hicks had a 
career of uninterrupted success, and 
things looked hopeful when, in early 
autumn, he set out at the head of ten 
thousand men to quell the Mahdi by one 
blow. He was betrayed into an am- 
bush, and his force utterly destroyed; 
no European at all survived, and the 
Egyptian campaign against the Mahdi 
was at an end — the resources of the 

Khedive were exhausted. 

The English had waited too long, 
flail they supported the Khedive from 
the start, as they had morally bound 
themselves to do by their suppression of 
Arabi's rebellion, the Mahdi's career 
might have been cut short. But the 
government had declined to help Egypt 
in subjugating the Soudan. Lord Gran- 
ville had stated in Parliament in the 
spring of 1883 that " Her Majesty's 
government were in noway responsible 
for the operations which hail been under- 
taken on the authority of the Egyptian 
government, or for the appointment and 
action of General Hicks." But when 
Hicks and his army had been massacred, 
a certain sense of responsibility began 
to creep over the managers of British 
foreign affairs. Something must lie 
done. At once the attempt was made 
to get Egypt to abandon the Soudan, 
for conquer it she could not. nor would 
England help her. But that was con- 
ceded — for. really, what choice had Tew- 
iik, a powerless "protected" prince, 
the mere administrator of British will? 
Then arose the question of the garri- 
sons, thirty thousand soldiers, mostly 
Egyptians, in Khartoum, and Berber, 
Doiigola. Kassala, and other places, 
who would assuredly be butchered bv 



EUROPE IS STORM AND CALM. 



825 



the fanatic followers of the Mahdi if 
they were left there. It was at this 
juncture that the British thought of 
Charles George Gordon. This wonder- 
ful soldier of fortune, whom some call 
the greatest Englishman of his age, <li<l 
not desire the work, for he knew what it 
was, none so well ; and, moreover, he 
had already half-engaged with the King 
of the Belgians to go to the upper Congo 
and supplement Stanley's work, by ex- 
tirpating the slave-trade of Central Af- 
rica. For that he had quitted his re- 
treat in the Holy Land, where he had 
been meditating and producing that 
1 iook of mystical religious thought since 
published; yet- "hen he asked the per- 
mission of the British government to 
take that service, and yet retain his 
commission as major-general, there was 
some difficulty made about it. But as- 
sent was gained when, on the eve of de- 
parture for that service, Gordon was 
sought for the Soudan. The govern- 
ment was not the first to ask for Gor- 
don ; that was left for the newspapers, 
and they were not backward in doing 
their duty. Said the "Pall Mall Ga- 
zette:" "If we have not an Egyptian 
army to employ, and if we must not send 
an English force, what are we to do? 
There is only one thing that we can do. 
We cannot send a regiment to Khar- 
toum, but we can send a man who. on 
more than one occasion, has proved him- 
self more valuable in similar circum- 
stances than an entire army. Why not 
send Chinese Gordon to Khartoum, to 
assume absolute control over the terri- 
tory, to treat with tile Mahdi, to relieve 
the garrisons, and do what can lie done, 
to save what can he saved, from the 
wick in the Soudan? His engagement 
on the Congo could surely he postponed. 
No man can deny the urgent need in the 
midst of that hideous welter of confusion 



for the presence of such a man, with a 
born genius for command, an unex- 
ampled capacity in organizing • Ever Vic- 
torious ' armies, and a perfect knowledge 
of the Soudan and its people. Why not 
send him out with carte blanche? " 

The British government knew all this 
well; they knew Gordon's genius and 
gifts and the great things he had done in 




c;KN C. <;. GORDON. 

China, and what former service as Gov- 
ernor-General of the Soudan, the most 
popular one that ever ruled, and the only 
one that had ever done any good there 
except Sir Samuel Baker. But Cordon 
was a man of greater resources and more 
striking character than the excellent 
Baker. He had shown one of his eccen- 
tricities by refusing a salary of £10,000 
a year, when the Khedive appointed him 
governor of the tribes in upper Egypt in 
1S77, and would take but £2,000, saying 
that the money was wrung from tin- pov- 
erty of a wretched people whom he pitied. 
He was made a pasha, and. in February, 



826 EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

1877, he was made Governor-General of tian government. The Britisli govern- 
the Soudan. In the course of that year ment had the choice of simply aiding 
lie travelled through the whole of this this policy, which it had advised the Khe- 
great proconsulate, settling difficulties, dive to adopt, or of supporting the Khe- 
paeifying hostile tribes, removing officers dive by British troops, numerous enough 
who oppressed the people, gaining the to pursue an active and destructive cam- 
love of the people by his brilliant insight paign against the formidable false pro- 
ami unswerving justice, and winning an phet. Gordon made a memorandum of 
almost superstitions admiration by tin 1 his own plans, which, as read now, indi- 
rapidity of his movements and the cate the impossibility of working in Lon- 
celerity of his despatch of affairs. The don andat Khartoum on two very different 
great work of his administration was not lines. The evacuation of the Soudan, 
the putting down of rebellion in Darfur, the mere rescue of the Egyptian garri- 
or the ending of the war with Abyssinia, sons, could have been accomplished had 
hut the crippling of tin- power of the there been no other considerations, lint 
slave-dealers at the very source of their Gordon also planned to make a disposi- 
snpplies. He captured hundreds of slave tion for the future of the country. Not- 
caravans, and put an end to a dominion withstanding that he had said at the start 
which had for years been stronger in " I understand that Her Majesty's gov- 
actual influences than the power of the eminent have come to the irrevocable 
Khedive. In doing this Gordon hast- decision not to incur the very onerous 
ened the way of his own death (if. in- duty of securing to the peoples of the 
deed, he be dead), for when his able Soudan a just future government," in 
lieutenant, the Italian Romulus Gessi, the same paragraph he went on to 
executed the penalty of death upon Sulei- say that, "as a consequence, Her 
man, the robber chief, son of Zebehr, the Majesty's government have determined 
king of the slave-traders, the act, al- to restore to these peoples their inde- 
though Zebehr acknowledged its rightful- pendence ; " ami. further on, he says: 
liess, was not forgotten or forgiven by " My idea is that the restoration of the 
that important personage, who was able country should be made to the different 
to direct from his detainment, under sur- petty sultans who existed at the time of 
veillance at Cairo, the operations of trai- Mehemet Ali's conquest, and whose 
tors who opened the gates of Khartoum families still exist ; that the Mahdi should 
to the Mahdi. But this is to anticipate, be left altogether out of the calculation 
Having these things in mind the Brit- as regards the handing oyer the country; 
ish government did appoint Gordon, and, and that it should be optional with the 
ever ready to obey the summons to a sultans to accept, his supremacy or not. 
Held of immediate and pressing action. As these sultans would probably not be 
he responded promptly, informing King likely to gain by accepting the Mahdi as 
Leopold that he should hope to be able their sovereign, it is probable that they 
to carry out his engagement with him con- will hold to their independent positions. 
cerning the Congo after he had accom- Thus, we should have two factions to 
plished his work on the Soudan. He deal with, namely, the petty sultans as- 
went with the clear understanding that serting their several independence, and 
the end to be accomplished was the the Mahdi party aiming at supremacy 
evacuation of the Soudan by the Egyp- over them." The arsenals, therefore. 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



827 



should be handed over to the sultans, and 
not the Mahdi ; but in Khartoum, Don- 
gola, and Kassala, towns which have 
sprung up since the first Khedive's eon- 
quest, there were no old ruling families, 
and there Gordon thought it should be 
left to the people to deeide as to the arse- 
nals, etc. All this involved precisely 
what Gordon had plainly said he knew 
the British government would not do, and 
what, in fact, it did not do. Neverthe- 
less, it was with these ideas that he left 
for the Soudan. " It would he an iniq- 
uity to reconquer these people and then 
hand them hack to the Egyptians without 
guarantee of future good government." 
And, therefore, he did not desire that the 
British should take the part of the Egyp- 
tian government, but he did outline a pro- 
gramme of sustaining the local sultans as 
against the Kordofan prophet which in- 
volved a great deal larger force and more 
fighting than the government at London 
ever contemplated. Thus, although the 
government never promised to fulfil 
Gordon's plans, itdid express the utmost 
confidence in his wisdom, and tell him to 
go ahead, with " full discretionary power 
to retain the troops for such reasonable 
period as you may think necessary in 
order that the abandonment of the coun- 
try may be accomplished with the least 
possible risk to life and property." And 
Gordon sailed with this unrecognized but 
most serious difference between himself 
and the government. 

The late Governor-General of the Sou- 
dan reached Khartoum February 18, 1S.S4. 
His first acts were to liberate prisoners 
and prepare for the removal of the gar- 
rison to Berber. In nine days more he 
had surveyed the field and come to the 
conclusion that it was necessary, in order 
to accomplish his plans, to crush the 
Mahdi. ami he began telegraphing to 
Sir Evelyn Baring that it could then be 



done without great cost in men or money. 

lie required also for his lieutenant wl 

but his old enemy Zebehr, the slave- 
trader! Shortly after he astonished the 
world by proclaiming in Khartoum non- 
interference with the slave-trade. The 
inconsistency of this action with Gor- 
don's professions and previous record 
seemed impossible to explain ; but the 
British government expressed their con- 
fidence in his judgment in the emergency. 
Seven-eighths of the population of the 
Soudan were slaves at that time, and 
Gordon had to reassure the Soudanese 
against the impression disseminated by 
the Mahdi that Gordon's purpose was 
to extinguish their property in slaves. 
Whether he intended or not, at the start, 
to subjugate the Mahdi, he found when 
he got on the spot that if he did not. 
nothing could save Egypt from his ad- 
vance after the Soudan was conquered, 
as it soon would be, and he thought the 
British government might better do the 
job then, when it would lie comparatively 
easy, than suffer the influence of the 
Mahdi to spread until he possessed an 
irresistible force. But the British gov- 
ernment sent no more troops and paid 
no heed to Gordon's demand for Zebehr. 
Gordon grew desperate, if we may judge 
by his lies] latches at the time, and espec- 
ially by his diaries since published. 
Things had been going constantly against 
him. Colonel Valentine Baker, in the ser- 
viceof the Sultanas Baker Pasha, had suf- 
fered a severe defeat at Tokar, February 
4 : Tewtik Bey had, a week later, tried to 
cut his way with his garrison out of 
Sinkat, but all the six hundred men were 
slain by the forces of Osman Digna, who 
was now recognized as the Mahdi's viz- 
ier. Tokar had surrenderee!. A mas- 
sacre of Egyptians, endeavoring to escape 
from the country, had occuredat Shendy. 
There had been a temporary gleam of 



828 



EUROPE IN STORM AXD I'.l/.M. 



success in General Graham's defeat of 
a force near Trinkitat : but that was 
more than offset by the massacre of a 

part of the Egyptian army under com- 
mand of Colonel Stewart, for it revealed 
the existence of treachery ; two pashas 
having been detected in their negotia- 
tions and shot. Meantime, (.bin Ion's 
communications with the world were 
often cut off, and repeatedly he tele- 
graphed for reinforcements, declaring 
his conviction that he should be caught 
in Khartoum. April 8 he got through 
the following message to Sir Evelyn 
Baring : — 

" I have telegraphed to Sir Samuel 
Baker to make an appeal to British and 
American millionaires to give me £300,- 

000 to engage Turkish troops from the 
Sultan and send them here. This will 
settle the Soudan and Mahdi forever; 
for my part I think you will agree with 
me. 1 do not sec the fun of being 
caught here to walk about the streets tor 
years as a dervish with sandalled feet ; 
noi that ( I). V.) I will ever he taken 
alive. It would be tiie climax of mean- 
ness, after I had borrowed money from 

the people here, had called on them to 
sell their grain at a low price, etc. to go 
and abandon them without usinc every 
effort to relieve them. Whether these 
efforts are diplomatically corrector not, 

1 feel sure, whatever you may feel 
diplomatically. I have your support — 
and every man professing himself a 
gentleman — in private. Nothing could 
be more meagre than your telegram, 
' Osman Digna's followers have been 
dispersed.' Surely something more than 
this was required by me." 

Eight days later In wrote as follows : 
" As far as I can understand the situa- 
tion is this: You slate your intention of 

not sending any relief up here or to 
Berber, and you refuse me Zebehr. I 



consider myself free to act according to 
circumstances. I shall hold on here as 
lone- as 1 can. and if I can suppress the 
rebellion I shall do so. If I cannot, I 
shall retire to the Equator, and leave J 0U 
the indelible disgrace of abandoning the 
garrisons of Sennaar, Kassala, Berber, 
and Dongola, with the certainty that, you 
will eventually be forced to smash up 
the Mahdi under greater difficulties, if 
you retain peace in Egypt.'' 

For months thereafter nothing was 
heard of Gordon any more than if he 
had been in the moon. A diary of the 
siege of Khartoum, written by a news- 
paper correspondent named Power, 
reached London September .'■>, contain- 
ing the first information from the belea- 
guered place for live months. What 
fighting Gordon did in the interim was 
from his steamers on the Nile. The long 
siege was sustained, not by the bravery 
of the garrison, foi . as Mr. Power wrote, 
the Egyptian soldiers were such pol- 
troons that •• one Arab can put two bun- 
dled of our men to flight," nor by the 
abundance of provisions, lor they grew 
very scarce, but by the invincible spirit 
of Gordon. This, however, did not 
make him more popular with the people 
of Khartoum, who. doubtless, did not 
understand the conduct of such a man. 
It was a. month later before word was 
had directly from Gordon, giving details 

of the siege. At that time he had sent 

important sorties, and even expeditions, 
from Khartoum, in one of which Berber, 
captured in May by the Mahdi, bad been 
retaken by Colonel Stewart. But, on 
the way back. Stewart and Power and 
another European, making their way 
down the river in a small steamer, were 
wrecked, and the whole party murdered 
by a local sheikh, in whose professions 
of friendship they had trusted. It 
became more ami more evident that the 



II I, UPE IX STORM AMD CALM. 



829 



Soudanese were impatient at the occupa- 
tion of their country, and more inclined 
to accept the lead of theMahdi. It was 
recognized in England that this was the 
character of the movement that con- 
tinued to be called a " rebellion." Mr. 
Gladstone, in Parliament, replying to 
"Jingo" attacks, spoke of the Mahdi as 
one leading a people to freedom ; and 
it was true. All the while, therefore, 
the Mahdi's strength continued to in- 
crease, and he was constantly gaining 
small victories, and closing in on Khar- 
toum. The diaries of Gordon have 
enabled us to follow the whole course of 
this time, when he felt that he was 
abandoned by the British government, 
and when there was a loud cry went up 
in England almost to cursing the gov- 
ernment ; but yet the authorities de- 
clared Gordon in no danger. Lord 
Granville asserted that in the House of 
Lords, and said that if lie felt himself 
abandoned, it was because the govern- 
ment despatches had not reached him. 
In May a meeting of the Patriotic Asso- 
ciation was held in St. James Hall, 
London. The Earl of C'adogan presided. 
Mr. Chaplin, M.P. , moved, and the Earl 
of Dunraven seconded a resolution 
"•that this meeting condemns the aban- 
donment of General Gordon by Her 
Majesty's ministers as dishonorable to 
them and discreditable to the country." 
It was then declared that he had asked 
for money, and it had not been sent; 
had asked for Zebehr, and had been 
refused ; had prayed for troops, and 
been told there were none. It was often 
said that Gordon could get out if he 
would, and there is no doubt that he 
might have done so alone, but that he 
called, in his uumincing manner, " sneak- 
ing out," and he could not sneak. 

At the beginning of August, it is 
known from the diaries, Gordon's troops 



had fired about half a million cartridges ; 
two of his little steamers had received 
on their hulls nine hundred and eight 
hundred hits, respectively; yet only 
thirty men had been killed or wounded. 
But the strain Upon the besieged was 
terrible. Great economy of food was 
necessary: every one was rationed, and 
food had become thirty times dearer 
than its usual price. He had borrowed 
money to feed the starving, and he had 
issued paper to the extent of over 
£2(1, 00(1. while lie owed the merchants 
twice as much more. He struck medals 
for the defence of Khartoum; for of- 
ficers, in silver, for privates, in silver- 
gilt and pewter. These bore the device 

of the crescent anil the star, with a 
quotation from tin 1 Koran, a date and 

the inscription "Siege of Khartoum." 

•• School children and women." he writes 
in his diary, " also received medals, 
so that I am very popular with the 
black ladies of Khartoum." The stores 
of ammunition grew low, and had to be 
husbanded very carefully. Gordon was 
everything ; without him there was no 
strength whatever. The military, the 
ulemas, sojourners, and citizens of 
Khartoum, on August 19, telegraphed 
to the Khedive as follows : " Weakened 
and reduced to extremities, God in his 
mercy sent Gordon Pasha to us in the 
amidst of our calamities, or we should 
all have perished of hunger and been 
destroyed. Put sustained by his intelli- 
gence and great military skill, we have 
been preserved until now." That shows 
what Gordon was to his Mohammedan 
friends ; yet at this time he was writ- 
ing, " We appeared even as liars to the 
people of Khartoum," because nothing 
that he asked for was granted him. 
Finally, August 2G, he sent to the 
Khedive, to Sir Evelyn Baring, and to 
Nubar Pasha, this significant despatch : 



,s.;ii 



EUROrE IX STORM AND CALM. 



" I am awaiting the arrival of Brit- 
ish troops, in order to evacuate 
the Egyptian garrisons. Send me 
Zebehr Pasha, and pay 
him a yearly salary of 
£8,000. I shall surren- 
der the Soudan to the 
Sultan as soon as two 
hundred thousand Turk- 
ish troops have arrived. 
If the rebels kill the 
Egyptians, you will be 
answerable for their 
blood. I require £300,001 
for soldiers' pay, mydaily 
expenses being t'l ,500." 




EGYPT. 

Meanwhile it bad been at last deter- 
mined in England to attempt the relief 
of Gordon. On the 5th of August, a 
credit of £300,000 was voted lo prepare 
for such an expedition, and Lord Wi 
lev, of Egypt, was directly after an- 
nounced to command it. It was resolved 
to build a railway up the Nile valley. 



EUROPE IN STURM AND CALM. 



831 



Four hundred boats of light draught were 
ordered, and ship-yards at Liverpool, 
London, Hull, Hartlepool, and Dundee 
were busy with the noise of labor day 
and night; presently four hundred more 
were ordered. On the 30th of August 
the Nile was reported rising, and it was 
time things were on the move. Lord 
Northbrook was to accompany Wolseley 
so far as Cairo. There were prepara- 
tions swiftly made in London for the 
departure of the troops, and there was 
great excitement as sonic favorite regi- 
ment embarked upon the Thames. Some 
troops were ordered from India, and the 
whole force to go south of Assouan, that 
is, above the cataracts, was determined 
to comprise eight thousand British 
troops, two thousand five hundred Egyp- 
tians, and a flotilla of nine hundred and 
fifty boats ; the cost of the campaign was 
reckoned at £8,000,000. There were 
already ten thousand British troops in 
Egypt, and the reinforcements were to 
number five thousand. There grew a 
great popular interest in the war move- 
ment, for Jingoism is a permanent quality 
in England ; the colonies felt the demand, 
and troops went from Australia and 
from Canada. The Marquis of Lans- 
downe, Governor-General of the Domin- 
ion, enlisted a contingent of six hundred 
boatmen of the St. Lawrence and Ot- 
tawa, who had long navigated the rapids 
of those mighty rivers of the North, 
to conduct the troop-boats up the 
rapids of the Nile, under command of 
Major Dennison of the Governor-Gen- 
eral's body-guard. The popular songs 
in London streets were of Egypt and 
Gordon ; and this interesting composi- 
tion bade the Caughnawagas God-speed 
on their service : — 



" Oh, the East is lmt the West, with the sun a 
little hotter, 



And the pine becomes a palm by the dark 
Egyptian water ; 

Anil the Nile's like many a stream we know 
that tills the brimming cup, 

We'll think it is the Ottawa, as we track the 
batteaux up. 

Pull, pull, pull ! as we track the batteaux up! 

It's easy shouting homeward when we're at tie- 
top." 

This is quite in the measure and spirit 
of the Canadian chantis, as they call 




LORD WOLSELEY. 

them, and very likely was sung on the 
Nile among the boatmen's own simple 
lays, — a picturesque incident of a waste- 
fid and ineffectual war. 

Lords Northbrook and Wolseley 
reached Alexandria September 9, the 
same night reached Cairo, ami there 
Wolseley waited until the troops and 
transports had passed the second cata- 
ract, the former by land, the latter 
pushed by the poles of hundreds of 
half-fed laborers. Above Dongola the 
advance was to be by water. The 
enlistment of a camel corps, for the 



832 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



crossing of the desert, — a novel experi- 
ment, which proved of great practical 
service, — was ordered. The railway 
corps were set to building a road 
across twenty miles of desert, beyond 
Sarras, to escape the Semnch cataracts. 
When everything was ready Wolseley 
was to advance to Wady Haifa and 
direct operations thence. Meantime 
then' were many combats going on over 
other parts of the Soudan which were 
draining the English purse and losing 
English lives to no permanent purpose 
and little present effect. The Malnli's 
Ion-.' was greatly scattered, and much 
of it uncertain. The Mudir of Dongola 
remained loyal to the Khedive, and was 
a bulwark against the Mahdi's advance. 
Now Gordon had made striking moves 
outside of Khartoum, and reports went 
over the world of the most singular 
character, so that there was actually 
triumphant talk, September 21st, over a 
despatch from the Mudir recounting 
victories gained by Gordon in July and 
August, the latest a month hack, which 
the Mudir said resulted in raising the 
siege of Khartoum. Hut though the 
lines were broken several times by the 
magnificent dashes of Gordon and Stew- 
art, and the food supplies of the be- 
leaguered place replenished, the siege 
was destined never to he raised. It 
was on October 3, Wolseley being then 
at, Wady Haifa, and the expedition mak- 
ing slow progress up the Nile, that Gen- 
eral Gordon advanced with two steamer's 
from Khartoum, bombarded Berber, and 
retook it from the Mahdi's forces, on the 
return from which expedition Colonel 
Stewart, and Mr. Power were killed. 
This success had determined the false 
prophet, upon an absolute investment, 
and he gathered forces from far and 
near, and soon had over 15,000 men 
around Khartoum. On the 4th of 



November he called upon Gordon to 
surrender; but, that stanch heart did 
not fail him, and he returned answer, 
•• Not for tea years," and afterward sent 
word. "When you, () Mahdi ! dry up 
the Nile and walk across dry-shod with 
your troops and get into Khartoum and 
take me, then I will surrender the town, 
and not before." But, as a matter of 
fact, la- did not intend to surrender the 
town, or himself ; nor did he intend to 
accept from the expedition a personal 
relief for himself, or the relief of that 
garrison alone. About this time, in his 
diary, he repeatedly expressed his deter- 
mination never to leave Khartoum so 
long as there remained a garrison in the 
Soudan unrelieved, or without a govern- 
ment being established of some sort. 
" If any emissary or letter comes up 
here ordering me to come down, I will 
not obey it," he wrote, "but will stay 
here and fall with the town, and run all 
risks ; " for lie felt that the people had 
placed in him their entire confidence, 
and it would be treachery in him to 
abandon them, even should lie only stay 
as nothing but a private person, without 
authority. Little was heard from him 
outside for months; but a, few words 
occasionally got through on bits of paper 
stuffed in the hollow of quills and car- 
ried in the messenger's bushy hair, and 
by other such means. These were 
sometimes full of despair, as in a note 
received in November by a friend at 
Cairo, saying, "Farewell; yon will 
never hear from me again. I fear that 
there will he treachery in the garrison, 
and all will be over by Christmas." 
Sometimes they were cheerful, as the 
line '• Khartoum all right, 14th Decem- 
ber," which reached head-quarters at 
Korti, on New Year's Day. 

The column under General Herbert 
Stewart made a rapid march across the 



EUROPE rN STORM AND CALM. 



833 



desert, and the camels were extremely 
satisfactory. The advance had reached 
Gakdul Wells and Iloweiyat Wells, 
near Metemneh, January 10, and Gen- 
eral Gordon's steamers were plying on 
the river between Khartoum and Me- 
temneh, not only to keep 
the water-way open, but 

to communicate, as soon 
as possible, with the re- 
lief force and to gather 
supplies, which 
they succeeded 
in doing. The 
second 
part, of 




men approached Abu Klea Wells, they 
were attacked by from 8,000 to 10,000 
of the Mahdi's followers, at a point 

twenty-three miles -th-west of Me- 

temneh, and lost sixty-five iu slain 
and eighty-five in wounded, after 
lulling eight hundred of the rebels and 
wounding as many more. General 
Stewart formed his troops into a hol- 
low square, with his field-pieces at the 
coiners and with the invalids and the 
provisions in the centre. The Arabs 
made their attack in a tumultuous rush, 
directed principally upon the side of the 
square held by the hussars. It was a 
fierce hand-to-hand tight most of the 
time. A steady and deadly fire was 
kept up by the hussars and the mounted 
infantry, while the artillery maintained 



DEPARTURE OF TROOPS For EGYPT 



the forces travelled much more slowly 
across the desert than the first, for 
every ounce of food and water had 
to be carried, and there was terrible 
suffering from thirst. General Earle's 
party were making their way up the 
Nile, and the forces were expected 
sunn to unite. On the afternoon of 
the lGth, as the little aj-iny of 1,500 



an enfilading lire, which piled dead 
Arabs up in heaps. The space in 
front of the British right flank was a 
veritable slaughter-pen. Hut among 
the English dead were some important 
men, most noteworthy being Lieutenant- 
Colonel Fred Burnaby, who made the 
famous ■• Hide to Khiva," ami who was 
killed by an Arab spear thrust through 



83 1 



EUROPE IN STORM AXI> CM.M. 



his neck. The victory had been gained 
at great cost. 

Twelve days later another battle was 
fought at Metemneh, and with disas- 
ter. Genera] Stewart was desperately 
wounded, and two London newspaper 
correspondents were killed, — St. Leger 
Herbert, of "The Morning Post." and 
Mr. Cameron, of "The Standard." The 
little force, amid the storm of bullets, and 
under command of Sir Charles Wilson, 
began a retreat to the Nile, firing in a 
running fight all along the line as they 
went. Not till night did the enemy 
withdraw. But, having placed them- 
selves in a strongly-fortified position 
at Gubat on the Nile, the English 
troops rested secure. The next day 
four of Gordon's steamers came down 
from Khartoum, with a reinforcement 
of live hundred soldiers and several 
guns. General Earle's column in a few 
days arrived at Berti, and occupied it. 
There was now every hope of a speedy 
entrance into Khartoum. This was Gen- 
eral Wolseley's expectation, and the 
people of London were full of rejoic- 
ing. 

Suddenly, without the least prepara- 
tion, a cruel blow fell which crushed 
all the British hopes. On the . r .th of 
February the news reached England that 
Khartoum had fallen into the hands of 
the Mahdi ; that massacre had followed : 
and that the fate of the brave Gordon 
was unknown. 

Sir Charles Wilson had steamed up the 
Nile, January 24, with twenty men of the 
Sussex Regiment and three hundred and 
twenty Soudanese, who had but just 
before come down from ( tordon. As the\ 
neared Khartoum they found, to their 
alarm and surprise, that every point on 
the way was in the hands of enemies, 
and when they had approached within 
eight hundred yards of the walls, instead 



of Gordon 10 welcome them, they were 
confronted by thousands of Arabs, wildly 
waving Hags, and a dozen pieces of 
artillery, hacked by a thousand rifles, 
opened tire upon them. Against this 
odds it was, of course, impossible to 
land, and Wilson retreated down the 
river. His steamers were both wrecked 
on the way, by treacherous pilots, but 
the men all escaped, and remained three 
days on tin island before they were 
rescued. The whole story of the fall of 
Khartoum bas never been told by any 
reliable person, though there have been 
a score of minute accounts, each one 
contradicting every other. The most 
that, is credibly ascertained is that Khar- 
toum was betrayed by three Soudanese 
sheiks, whom Gordon had treated only 
too well. Faragh Pasha, whom Gordon 
had once had condemned to death and 
then pardoned, is said to have been the 
man who opened the gates of the city. 
and some add even that he was the one 
who struck Gordon dead. Many pictures 
have been drawn of Gordon's death, the 
most probable being that, hearing an 
unusual noise on the street, he stepped 
to the door of the government house, and 
was stabbed on the threshold. There was 
a romance which many wished to believe, 
that the brave soldier had been made 
captive by the Mahdi, who would treat 
him well ; and, indeed, there are those 
who do believe that Gordon yet lives. 
Tltc story of the Soudan is not yet 
finished, though Wolseley has returned 
to England with no new honors, and tin' 
garrisons of the Egyptians tit Kassala 
and other places have not been relieved. 
Suakim, on tin' Red Sea. is in the British 
hands ; the Italians hold Massowah, 
against the protests of the King of 
Abyssinia, but Osman Digna possesses 
all the coitntn between there and the 
Nile, except where sundry fierce tribes 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



835 



dwell that will not recognize the Mahdi; 
and the region is in its normal state of 
predatory war. The Soudanese want to 
be free from the Egyptians, free from 
the British, and left to their own way of 
life, without the innovation of the tax- 
gatherer, that leech that drains the life 
of the poor fellaheen. Whether they 
had much religious confidence in the 
Mahdi may lie questioned, hut he was 
a leader for liberty, and that has 
been enough. Of late Mohammed 



Ahmed has been reported dead and 
revived again alternately so often that it 
is somewhat a mystery. Hut it is no 
mystery that the British in the Soudan 
have sustained great loss of prestige, 
and have accomplished nothing toward 
the strengthening of their dominion in 
the East, where they are destined to be 
forever menaced by the ambition of 
rulers, the rivalry of trade, the restive- 
ness of subject nations, and the treachery 
of allies and tributaries. 



836 eurote ix storm and calm. 



CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR. 

The Death of Victor Hugo.— The Greatest European Man of Letters since Goethe. — Napol 1 III.'s 

Irreconcilable Foe. — 1 1 1 - Obsequies. —The Pantheon Secularized. — In State Beneath the Arch 
of Triumph. — A Vast Procession. — The Demonstration of the French People. 

ONI-;. if the memorable events of the (hat while the great criminal reigned in 

present year in Europe, unques- France, he accepted exile, " have it nor 

tionably, was the death of Victor Hugo, end nor term " : — 
Long acknowledged as the greatest of 

all the poets of France, living or dead, "I!e there a thousand, I am one; or if our 



strength 
Have but one hundred left. Sylla i- braved by 



and famous in his prime a.s the leader 

of the Romantic revolution in French 

me ; 

literature and the august head of that [f only ten continue, I will be the tenth; 

school, he had become the principal man \iid if but ene remain, I then that one will lie." 

in European letters since Goethe; more 

than that, he had home a great pari in After Hugo's death the London 
the advance of Europe toward freedom. " Times " cavilled, as it had in his life, 
in all fields of life, in social and political, at his constant appeals in behalf of 
in national and international movements, causes for charity 01' pity, declaring that 
Born an aristocrat, he became the inosl he did little lor humanity, and that his 
radical and broad-minded of republicans, sentimentalism was rather vague and 
and was true to the people in their storm inoperative. This was unfair and Un- 
as in their calm. He hail no toleration generous. Victor Hugo was as thorough 
foi tyrants; nothing could make him a warrior for ideals as were William 

compromise his principles bj udoning Llovd Garrison or John Brown; he 

the crime of the Second of December, and was ready at any time to lay down 
when many another republican of 1848 his life or sacrifice his fortune for the 
had accepted office, and almost all im- truth. Some far-off day, when the Im- 
munity from Napoleon III. , Victor Hugo, man race shudders as it remembers that 
faithful to his professions, would not society once practised capital punish- 
reenter France, but hurled his fierce in- ment upon criminals — thus announcing 
vective against "This beggar-wretch," — its own disbelief in that sacredness 

of human life which it sought to teach 

" This brigand whom the Pope hath blessed in — the passionate and constant protests 

allhissin; llf - fj U g against the barbarity of ese- 

This sceptre-fingering, this crowbar-handed .. .,, , , 

v cutloncrs will be treasured as memo- 
one ; ,-,iii- 
This Charlemagne by the devil hewn out of a "^ "'' :l courage winch has had lew 
Manadrin," equals in the nineteenth century. His 

sentimental appeals have done more 

as he called him iii a poem of •• Les for the progress of liberalism in legisla- 

t'hatiineiits." wherein also he declared Hon and in thought in Europe than a 



EUROPE IX STURM AX1> CALM. 



837 



score of the most prominent English 
writers have effected. Reformer, with a 
pen tipped with lire, the good man 
wrote his denunciations of shams and 
tyrannies without the smallest regard for 
the evil eonsequences which his daring' 

might bring n x himself. The praises 

at this moment accorded him in France 
are somewhat extravagant ; vet it is not. 
too much to say that no other man has left, 
so strong an impression on this century. 
lingo may be said to have had three 
lives — through all of which runs a con- 
sistent thread of noble effort for the 
improvement of humanity. Even in his 
earlier poems he is already the vates. 
The things say themselves ; he is but 
the medium ; his spirit is a delicate lyre 
through which the wind of the world 
flows, awakening it to harmonious notes, 
now tender, now martial. In his middle 
life of struggle and exile he appears 
both as vates and as consummate artist. 
He hears tin- voices of the hidden choir, 
ami in reporting their messages to men 
lie clothes them inmost felicitous phrase. 
All that he does, he does best : it is 
pitched in exalted key; his subject, as 
Emerson said of poetry, is always 
••lifted into air." In the final period, 
when struggle is over, and when he is 
looking back, with gaze chastened and 
cleared by earthly sorrows, his whole 
strength is turned to the task of preach- 
ing love, reconciliation, forgiveness, 
peace. In Senate and in his library he 
labored for mercy, lor the comfort of the 
toiling masses, for the pacific accom- 
plishment of social reform. He was an 
advanced republican of the highest type ; 
and the sentiments which he so boldly 
proposed will do more than anything 
else to briug about disarmament, arbitra- 
tion, sincerity in politics. Men said 
'• the age of Voltaire ; " they will say 
'• the age of Hugo." 



The burial of the great man was 
preceded and accompanied by the most 
elaborate and exceptional ceremonies, 
notwithstanding that in bis will be had 
written that he wished to be borne to his 
grave in the hearse of the poor. A 
committee representing the best in French 
literature, painting, and sculpture made 
preparations to celebrate the dead ; the 
government decreed the secularization of 
the Pantheon to receive his remains, and 
to the great scandal of the Roman Church 
the stone cross that surmounted ils portals 
was hewn off in visible symbol of the 
divorce of religion from the temple which 
Louis the Well-Beloved built; which 
the Revolution in 1791 consecrated to the 
illustrious dead of the nation, entomb- 
ing therein Voltaire, and Rousseau, and 
Mirabeau ; which the Bourbons restored 
to the Church, and called by the name 
of Ste. Genevieve, and which the pious 
Louis Napoleon, in 1851, gave back to 
the Church after another brief period of 
popular possession. There was a certain 
fitness that Hugo's sepulture should undo 
the consecration given by the grace of 
Napoleon Le Petit. His body could 
not have been buried there while the 
Church held the splendid building, for 
bell or book Hugo would have none. 
Not that he was irreligious ; although he 
refused the visit of a priest, in his last 
hours, he was not without God in the 
world. In his will, or testament mystique, 
as it is called, Hugo made a philosophical 
explanation of his beliefs. He has 
always and on all public occasions, when 
it, seemed appropriate, affirmed his belief 
in Cod. His contempt for the modern 
materialist was nearly as great as his 
scorn for the bigot, Catholic or Protes- 
tant. His religion was the religion of 
humanity; love was its central and in- 
forming purpose ; love for Cod, love for 
his neighbor. 



s:is 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



All funerals in France arc surrounded 
with many ceremonious observances; 
the pomp of death is, indeed, given a sort 
of luxurious indulgence, and there lias 
never yet been a thought of adding 
" Please omit (lowers" to the elaborate 
letters of invitation which arc always 
dispatched to friends by the nearest 
relative of the deceased, on heavy black- 
bordered paper, folded over and mailed 
without envelopes. When the dead is a 
distinguished man or woman there are 
more pains taken, and among the features 
of French news always are the funerals 
of notables. Such an occasion has more 
than once centred or started a popular 
movement, and the government always 
has a careful oversight of the burial of the 
ureal, as it had over that of Victor Hugo. 
The Conservatives and the Monarchists 
had the notion that the funeral parade 
would be made the occasion for a mani- 
festation against property, or, possibly, 
against the government, l>v the Anarch- 
ists; in fact, the bourgeois were in a 
veritable funk. The Catholics felt that 
should the funeral be disgraced in some 
way by misconduct of the assembled 
thousands, they might say. ••Yon sec to 
what a secular funeral leads." But these 
were all disappointed. The management 
of funerals in Paris is under the charge 
c>f the Pompes Fun&bres, a cooperative 
society under government patronage, 
which has the monopoly of the trade in 
coffins, so that there are no undertakers' 
shops in Paris, ami which supplies the 
entire machinery of the funeral at a 
lixed price, set down in a printed tariff. 
A State funeral, like that of Henri Mar- 
tin, the historian, costs sonic 15,000 
francs, and the Pompes Fun&bres furnishes 
a master of ceremonies, a corps of official 
mourners, huge mortuary carriages and 
a colossal hearse, while the government 
adds a military escort and immortelles. 



The Pompes Funibres did its best to 
fulfil i he demands of the great occasion 
of Hugo's burial; but most of the dis- 
play was quite beyond its power and 
scope. Greater honors were paid to the 
poet than have been paid to any sover- 
eign of France for three hundred years, 
notwithstanding his desire for a modest 
burial, beside the remains of his wife and 
daughter, which lie in the little grave- 
yard of the parish church of Villequier, 
on the light bank of the Seine, halfway 
between Rouen and Havre. The people 
would not have it so. and thus, although 
his body was borne to its rest on the 
pauper's hearse, it was as the centre of a 
triumphal procession, and, although no 
church rites were observed, there were 
such spontaneous demonstrations of 
affection and admiration by the people 
as rendered the perfunctory honors of 
clerical routine quite insignificant. The 
assembly voted 20,000 francs for the 
funeral expenses. Committees were ap- 
pointed of the Senate, of which Victor 
Hugo was a member, and of the Chamber 
of Deputies, to attend the obsequies. 
Deputations were appointed from all 
parts of France and Europe, from munici- 
palities, and from societies. From the 
Academy were sent the last four members 
elected to the fellowship of the Forty 
Immortals, — Pailleron, Mazade, Coppee, 
and De Lesscps. The list of the depu- 
tations tilled seven and a half closely 
printed columns of a large journal the 
evening before the funeral. 

The body of Victor Hugo was laid in 
state, beneath the Arch of Triumph, 
during Sunday, May 01. The evening 
before it had been placed in the coffin, 
in the presence of witnesses, among 
whom were Mine. Lockroy (mother of 
Georges anil Jeanne Hugo, the poet's 
grandchildren), Auguste Vacquerie, Paul 
Meurice, and Leopold Hugo. In the 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



839 



inner coffin beside the body were placed 
the photographs of Hugo's children and 
grandchildren, a bronze medallion of the 
elder Vacquerie, — the husband of Hugo's 
favorite daughter, Leopoldine, and sharer 
of her tragic death by the oversetting of 
a boat forty years ago; bronze medals 
of Hugo's face, and a bouquet of roses. 
Then the coffins were closed, and early 
Sunday morning, in the dawn of a beau- 
tiful day, the employes of the Pompes 
FunSbres carried their charge to the 
Triumphal Arch, hoping at that hour to 
be uninterrupted in their work of installa- 
tion within the catafalque. But so great 
was the curiosity of the people that by 
the time the wagon containing the body 
leached the Arch there was a compact 
crowd of ten thousand men, with un- 
covered heads, all around the square of 
the Etoile. The catafalque was very 
high, and immense black velvet draper- 
ies, seamed with silver, hung around it, 
while all around were heaps of flowers 
and wreaths, several feet high. The 
receptacle for the coffin was in form like 
a vast sarcophagus, black and silver, 
placed upon a double pedestal, and deco- 
rated in front with a crown traversed by 
palms, and a medallion of the Republic, 
with these words beneath : " Liberty , 
Equality, and Fraternity." This sarcoph- 
agus was so artfully arranged that 
from whichever point one approached the 
Arch its black and silver were distinctly 
seen. Great mourning bands of crape 
were artistically draped from the summit 
to the base of the mighty Arch. Tin' 
catafalque was half buried beneath 
flowers whose perfume loaded the air. 
The " lost provinces " were given a prom- 
inent place, and among the inscriptions 
were : " The City of Strasburg to Victor 
Hugo;" "The City of Mulhouse ; " 
" The Ladies of Thann to Hugo." Near 
by was a handsome wreath bearing the 



words: " The City of Boston to Victor 
Hugo." Under the superb sunshine of 
the afternoon the spectacle — with the 
faces of flags draped in black, the mam- 
moth lampaclaires placed in a circle 
around the Arch, the shields bearing 
the names of the poet's works, and the 
unending crowds passing with bowed 
heads — was vastly impressive. At even- 
ing, after the torches were lighted, the 
scene was weird. The glitter of the 
uniforms of the cavalry and infantry 
guards, the innocent faces of the young 
children from the school battalions, the 
uplifted visages of the rough men pass- 
ing by, many with eyes brimful of tears 
as they came beneath the Arch, the 
reverent hum of the myriads of voices, 
— all these were imposing. The Master 
reposed beneath the monument which he 
had so often celebrated in his verse, — the 
monument which celebrates the victories 
of Jemappes, Marengo, Zurich, Hohen- 
linden, Austerlitz, Eylau. Above and 
around him were inscribed the names of 
three hundred and eighty-six generals 
and one hundred and twenty-six vic- 
tories. Behind his sarcophagus stretched 
the Avenue de la Grande Armee. 

The grand procession and the entomb- 
ment in the Pantheon, on Monday, June 
1, were characterized by features which 
made them unprecedented in Paris. No 
such number of people has passed under 
the Triumphal Arch during one day since 
the return of the ashes of Napoleon the 
( i-reat to the Invalides. But on that occa- 
sion nothing like the enormous throng 
which gathered this morning on the 
Place l'Etoile was seen. By noon there 
were certainly 750,000 people in the area 
between the Tuileries Gardens and the 
Porte Maillot and the net-work of streets 
radiating in all directions from the Arch. 
By nine o'clock, the hour appointed for 
the assembling of the hundreds of asso- 



840 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CA1 V. 



eiations, which were divided into no less 
than twenty-eight different groups, the 
morning was cool and bright, and the 
throngs were in the best of good-humor. 
All the exaggerated notions of the Con- 
servatives about the danger of a Com- 
munistic demonstration were rendered 
groundless by the energetic action of the 
police agents, who. whenever they saw 
a delegation headed by a red flag, took 
possession of the emblem, advising the 
rnanifestors not to resist, as it might be 
unpleasant for them to do so in the midst 
of a crowd whose majority were cer- 
tainly anti-Communistic in sentiment. 
There were but eighteen red flags brought 
from the whole of the Communist quarter 
of Paris and from the various cities of 
France, ami these were taken away, to 
be handed back on the morrow to those 
who Could show title to them. The whole 
clerical party professed to believe, up to 
the last moment of the procession's pas- 
sage along its line of route, that, there 
Would be scenes of wild disorder, and 

that the Commune would make itself 
visible and demonstrate its growing 
strength. The Ministry felt that there 
would be no manifestation, both because 
it could have been instantly suppressed, 
and because even the Anarchists had 
decency and sense of consistency enough 
to sec that it would be wrong to mani- 
fest at Hugo's funeral. 

Those who were fortunate enough to 

lie in the immediate neighborhood of the 
Arch, and to look down upon the scene 
of the official ceremony, found it very 
picturesque and entertaining. There 
were the official delegate ms, accompanied 
by brilliant escorts of cuirassiers, the 
generals and presidents who repre- 
sented the military household of the 
President of the Republic, all the 
officers of the Legion of Honor, the 
Ministry, the Diplomatic Corps, the 



Senate, the Chamber, the twenty Mayors 
of Taris. the Municipal Councillors, the 
Academicians in their somewhat gro- 
tesque uniforms ; all these being harmo- 
niously grouped about the towering 
catafalque, which stood in hold relief 
against the brilliant blue of the sky. 
The official speeches began. Of course 
only those who were close at hand could 
hear them, and those who were far away 
missed little, for. with few exceptions, 
the speaking was dry and tame. Emile 
Atlgier, the poet's old friend, said some 
eloquent words, declaring that the occa- 
sion was not a funeral, but a consecra- 
tion ; and Minister Floquet entered into 
direct rivalry with him by pronouncing 
it not. a funeral, but an apotheosis. 
Hugo, said Floquet, was the immortal 
apostle who bequeathed to humanity that 
gospel which could lead the people to 
the definitive conquest of " Liberty, 
Equality, Fraternity." M. Goblet, 
president of the Chambers of Deputies, 
declared that Victor Hugo will remain 
the highest personification of the nine- 
teenth century, the history of which, in 
its contradictions, doubts, ideas, and 
aspirations, was best reflected in his 
works. 

While the speeches were going on, down 
below, along the slopes of the Champs 
Elvsees. thousands of workmen and work- 
women were driving a brisk trade in the 
leasing of ladders and the tops of 
wagons, chairs, improvised platforms, 
and other expedients for allowing the 
late-comers to see over the heads of the 
more fortunate ones who had preceded 
them. Ambulating merchants sold sau- 
sages and beer, cider, wine, and brandy 
to the thirsty ami hungry, who had left 
their homes before dawn in order to be 
in time for the procession's passage. 
The lame and blind beggars sprawled 
upon the sidewalk; the blue-bloused 



EUROPE I.X STORM AND CALM. 



841 



workmen chatted and laughed ; and, in- 
deed, the whole mass of the populace 
evidently regarded the day more as a 
celebration of Hugo's glory than as the 
sombre occasion of his funeral rites. 
This was well enough, for mourning was 
a week old. and the real demonstrations 
of grief on the part of the people were 
sincere and voluminous enough when 
the news of the old poet's death was 
first announced. It should not be for- 
gotten, too, that the "people" meant to 
manifest, and did it, on the whole, in a 
very intelligent fashion. 

The funeral was a little more than 
twice as large as that of Gambetta. 
The black musses of delegations which 
came into view- in front of the Arch 
seemed endless. They were not very 
entertaining, — on the contrary, somewhat 
monotonous; but their numbers were 
overpowering. The wreaths, crowns, 
inscriptions, beds and banks of flowers, 
borne in the procession, are said to have 
cost about three millions of francs. In 
this show the hearse of Hugo was a 
sombre spot. It was the same in which 
Jules Valles, the Communist, had short- 
ly before been borne to his last abode. 
Of the plainest description, even the 
bumble ornaments which usually be- 
deck it were removed. Within the 
hearse was placed the coffin, draped with 
a black cloth, and two laurel wreaths 



were placed at its head. Thousands 
upon thousands of school children, ar- 
ranged in what are called the school 
battalions, and arrayed as soldiers and 
sailors, and many thousands of the 
young men enrolled in the gymnastic 
corps, were in the parade. There was 
also a vast throng of Freemasons, and 
the military parade was quite huge. 
The Army of Paris, as the corps of 
■_'(i.i>oo or 30,000 men. all stationed here, 
is called, was on duty. Thousands of 
soldiers formed ;i kind of living hedge 
to keep back the enthusiastic spectators ; 
other thousands headed the procession, 
and kept guard over the eleven great 
chariots heaped with flowers and 
wreaths ; and still other thousands 
brought up the rear, the sparkling c n- 
pany of infantry, cavalry, and art ilerj 
being interspersed with many bands of 
music. At the corner of the Luxem- 
bourg garden, where a statin' of Victor 
Hugo has been erected, each group 
halted and the bands played a funeral 
march. All heads were bared when the 
simple hearse passed. The steps of the 
Pantheon were covered yards high with 
flowers. By four o'clock the last word 
had been said, and the body of Victor 
Hugo was borne to the vault in the crypt, 
and laid to rest beside the tomb of 
Rousseau. 



842 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE 



Laborers for Peace. — The New Territories given to European Powers by the Congo Conference.— 

Impossibility of Permanent Peace. —Believers in Arbitration. — M. De Lesscps and Mr. Stanley. — 
The United States of Europe. — Victor Hugo's I 'ream. — Republican Sentiment. - The Strengthen- 
ing of the French Republic. — Will Storm and Culm Forever Alternate in Europe ? 



ENTHUSIASTIC believers in the 
possibility of permanent peace in 
the world might derive some support for 





KING OF BELGIUM. 



(heir belief from the fact that so many 
men in exalted station are engaged in 
pacific enterprises, rather than in those of 
conquest. They could point to the King of 
the Belgians as a conspicuous instance of 
one, who. aided by the ablest and wisest 
of lieutenants, has made what might 
have been a sanguinary and reprehensi- 
ble conquest only a tranquil, although 



resistless, pushing forward of civilization 
into the troubled wilderness. Mr. Stan- 
lev's story and his relation to the King 
of the Belgians in their joint magnificent 
enterprise are now well-known through- 
out the world. As the result of the Congo 
Congress, mentioned in a preceding 
chapter, there has been a greater exten- 
sion of European influence over African 
territory than is generally supposed. 
Mr. Stanley himself, in his terse and 
excellent account of the Conference, 
says: "Two European powers emerge 
out of the elaborate discussions, pro- 
tracted for such a long period, with 
enormously increased colonial posses- 
sions. France is now mistress of a West 
African territory, noble in its dimensions, 
equal to the best tropic lands for its 
vegetable productions, rich in mineral 
resources, most promising for its future 
commercial importance. In area it 
covers a superficies of two hundred and 
fifty-seven thousand square miles, equal 
to that of France and England combined, 
with access on the eastern side to five 
thousand two hundred miles of river 
navigation. On the west is a coast line 
nearly eight hundred miles long, washed 
by the Atlantic Ocean. It contains within 
its borders eight spacious river basins, 
and throughout all its broad surface of 
ninety millions of square hectares not 
one utterly destitute of worth can be 
found. Portugal issues out of the 
Congress with a coast line nine hundred 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



843 



and ninety-five English miles in Length, 
three hundred and fifty-one thousand 
square statute miles in extent, a territory 
larger than the combined areas of France, 
Belgium, Holland, and Great Britain. 
On the LowerCongo, its river-bank is one 
hundred and three miles in length. It can 
now boast of healthy pastoral lands to the 
south, oil and rubber producing forests 
northward, mineral fields in the north- 
eastern portion of its territory, and val- 
uable agricultural regions in its eastern 
borders. If herown population were added 
to the aboriginal population of this Afri- 
can colonial territory, and extended over 
its area, there would still be sufficient to 
give thirty-two and three-fourths acres to 
each Portuguese white and black subject. 
Her home aud colonial populations of all 
colors number in all eight million three 
hundred thousand. The area of her terri- 
tories in Africa. Asia, and the Oceans 
measures seven hundred and forty-one 
thousand three hundred ami forty-three 
square miles, or four hundred and seventy- 
four million five hundred thousand acres, 
— sufficient to give each subject fifty- 
seven acres. Great Britain, on the other 
hand, with all her vast acreage of five 
billion fifty-six million of acres, can 
only give to each of her two hundred ami 
forty-nine millions of people the small 
portion of twenty and one-fourth acres. 
The International Association surren- 
dered its claims to sixty thousand three 
hundred and sixty-six square miles of 
territory to France, and to Portugal 
forty-live thousand four hundred square 
miles, for which consideration six 
hundred square miles of the north hank 
between Boma and the sea w ere conceded 
to it, besides cordial recognition of its 
remaining territorial rights from two 
powerful neighbors. To the world at 
large, the two [lowers above mentioned 
have been also duly considerate, for 



the territories surrendered to them by 
the Association have been consecrated 
to free trade, which, along with those 
recognized as belonging to the Associa- 
tion, and preordained for such uses, and 
those yet unclaimed by any power, but 
still reserved for the same privileges, 
form a domain equal to one million 
six hundred thousand square miles in 
extent, throughout which most excep- 




HKN'UY M. STANLEY. 



tional privileges have been secured by 
the cordial unanimity of the riveraine of 
the United States and European powers 
for commerce. With due reserve for the 
sovereign rights of Portugal and Zanzi- 
bar, this free trade area extends across 
Africa to within one degree of the east 
coast, thus enlarging the privileged com- 
mercial zone to two million four hundred 
thousand square miles." 

The acquisition of these immense 
territories by France and by Portugal, 
and the opening. of the vast domain 
of the Free State to the one country 



844 



EVRorE I.V STORM AND CALM. 



which could best profit by its opening, 
to Great Britain, — .-ill this is emi- 
nently tlif work of Mr. Stanley, who has 
within less than fifteen years stepped 
from the position of a roving special cor- 
respondent to that of the first of modern 
explorers and a politician and diplomat 
of no mean order. 

All tiie distinctly great men in Europe, 
men of comprehensive \ isiun and aecn- 




M. DE LESSEPS. 



rate knowledge, are anxious for peace. 
Bismarck himself wants peace, and 
means to compel it by demonstrating 
the uselessness of undertaking to combat 
the armies which he could bring to hear 
against an intending enemy. Thiers, 
even after the rude shock which his 
theories of the balance of power in 
Europe hail received in the Franco- 
German conflict, hoped that European 
peace might be maintained, although 
iii the very year of his death the conflict 
between Russia and Turkey was raging. 



There is little need to remind the Amer- 
ican reader that Mr. Gladstone is a firm 

disciple of peace, and that in these 
latter days he is not averse to leading 
141 to the general adoption of the great 
principle of arbitration in international 
disputes. 

All the intelligent and capable politi- 
cians in France want peace : it is only 
the blustering and incompetent who 
clamor for a war of vengeance, or who 
would like to see France enter upon a 
policy of adventure, in connection even 
with the most illustrious allies. The 
ports, the philosophers, the great build- 
ers and engineers, men like the brilliant 
and phenomenal De Lesseps, are all in 
favor of peace, and the colossal vision 
of the old French poet — •'the United 
States of Europe," of which he fondly 
dreamed while in his exile amid the 
rocks of the Channel Islands, is often 
enough talked of as the forerunner of a 
possible reality. But although kings 
labor in peaceful channels, and dip- 
lomats prepare war that they may main- 
tain peace, — although they establish 
formidable alliances to prevent the pos- 
sibility of sudden declarations of war. 
there is no man so wise and none so 
daring 111 Europe as to prophesy that 
the shadow of war may not fall across 
the historic lands ; that Europe may not 
once more, and almost without warning, 
be plunged into a period of storm just 
as she is beginning to appreciate the 
blessings of calm. Every European 
country is making great material prog- 
ress, striving towards higher levels of 
education, of industry, of scientific and 
artistic attainment ; but every one has 
some quarrel with its neighbor, or is in 
some danger from surrounding nations. 
None is completely at ease. The fed- 
eration of which the poet sings may 
scarcely be expected before the more 



EUROPE TN STORM AM> CALM. 



845 



powerful of the great States have ab- 
sorbed such of the smaller States as they 
wish to absorb. 

Men like M. De Lesseps and Mr. 
Stanley, in the calm and steadfast con- 
duct of their gigantic enterprises, do nol 
reflect thai they are sowing the seeds of 
possible conflict by opening up new 
fields for commerce and new highways 
to these fields. When M. De Lesseps 
dug his canals through the sands of 
Egypt, in the face of the sneers of Pahn- 
erston, and indeed of nearly all 
Englishmen of influence, he scarcely 
thought that he was awakening jealous- 
ies which might endanger from time to 
time the friendly relations of France 
and England, neighbor countries which 
have every interest to remain at peace 
with each other ; and he has always 
persistently denied, when led to express 
an opinion with regard to his Panama 
enterprise, that there was the slightest 
danger of a collision between European 
and American forces for the control of 
the huge water-way connecting the At- 
lantic and Pacific oceans. Perhaps Mr. 
Stanley, now and then remembering the 
conflicts along the sandy shores of 
Florida, and on the lower Mississippi 
between European nations long ago. re- 
flects that France and Germany, or 
Great Britain anil competing European 
powers, may yet join battle beside the 
waters of the Congo. Wherever trading 
interests begin to conflict, war follows 
witli its devastating tread. There is 
scarcely a war in the European calendar 
since the beginning of the century which 
is not directly or indirectly due to some 
difference about trade or to some deter- 
mined effort to divert trade from one 
channel to another. Europe sighs for 
peace, but there is no peace ; so long as 
interests are diverse, ambitions mani- 
fold, and the heart of man is above all 



things deceitful and desperately wicked, 
storm and calm must have alternate rule. 
The folly of an incapable monarch, the 
precipitation of a prime minister, or the 
energy of a merchant, — any one of 
these causes may plunge nations into 
the miseries of conflict, waste untold 
millions, and ruin scores of thousands of 
lives. 

It is difficult to And, in the growth of 
Republican sentiment in Europe, any 
definite guarantee of peace. The French 
Republic has been so busy with struggles 
to maintain and assert its existence that 
it lias taken no thought of foreign war 
further than to prepare against a second 
disastrous invasion of its eastern frontier. 
If Germany should by some cataclysm 
lie transformed into a Republic, it must 
of necessity be for long years to come a 
military power, ambitious, and perhaps 
more aggressive than the present Empire 
has been. The slow unfolding of Re- 
publican principles in many European 
countries serves, in a certain way. to 
promote European dissensions. It 
unites ( 'atholic parties of different nation- 
alities into one compact body, ready to 
rise at the bidding of a capable leader 
against nations and peoples against 
whom it would otherwise have no hos- 
tility There is no denying that the in- 
fluence of the Roman church is against 
the rise of the people to power. " Gov- 
ernment of flu- people, by the people, 
and for the people," docs not consist 
with the secular claims of the Pope. 
The unfriendliness of Church and State- 
in France is notorious, and naturally in- 
creases when the Commune rears its 
hateful head in the Assembly, or in the 
City Council of Paris, as it is doing of 
late, or when the government secularizes 
the Pantheon to bury Victor Hugo. The 
maintenance by the Pope of his studied 
pose as •• the prisoner of the Vatican" 



846 



EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 



is nothing but a refusal to recognize thai Germany, a power really hostile to many 
the people have the supreme and ulti- of England's greatest interests abroad, 
mate right to choose their own govern- simply because they wish support in their 
ment. In Spain it is the clerical party opposition to the democratic programme 
that retards the advance of the Republic, at home. 

more than any love for monarchy. The Then' is no space here to treat in 

detail the growth of the one European 

;:,,,, Republic which has demonstrated its 

. ' ,, right to live during the last few years. 

Founded by its enemies in spite of them- 
selves, and narrowly escaping strangula- 
tion in its cradle, the French Republic, 
alter numerous vicissitudes since 1.N77, 
lias reached a point at which it is afraid 
neither of resolute conservatives nor 
half-crazed radicals. M. Thiers, who 
had the reward of his great services 
during the war and the German occupa- 
tion in his accession to the presidency, 
fell before the reactionists, hut lived 
long enough to feel that the Republic 
would ultimately triumph. Marshal 
MacMahon, who inaugurated the septen- 
nial presidencies, doubtless acted ac- 
cording lo his lights while in the exalted 
office. lie was not strong enough, 
however, to prevent the monstrous injus- 
tice of the counter-revolution of 1*77. 
as it came to he known in European 
young king is pursuing the only safe polities. This was a deliberate attempt 
course for kings nowadays, living simply on the part of ministers hostile to the 
and showing himself deeply concerned in Republic lo inaugurate a state of terror- 
the welfare of his people. L : — .111 which should render the reestablish- 

Monarcliical diplomats, while profess- ment of monarchy possible. In other 
ing to look upon the growth of Repuhli- words, the conservatives, who had been 
can spirit with equanimity, are constantly growing bolder daily since the fall from 
watching an opportunity to do the lie- power of Thiers, desired to provoke the 
publican cause a had turn. It is not Republicans into some breach of the 
unreasonable to suppose that as this public peace, ami then, setting up the 
liberalism becomes more intense and old cry of the necessity of order, get a 
wide-spread in Europe, conservatives who monarch in before Republican institutions 
have heretofore held apart from each began to take root. The inagnificeni 
other should Hock together for mutual prudence of Gambetta under the greatesl 
support. At Ibis moment the English provocation during this whole period of 
Tories offer a tine illustration of this repression added immensely to his repu- 
particular fact, striving to cooperate with tation. It showed that he was well 




KING OF SPAIN. 



EUROPE IX STORM AND CALM. 



847 



qualified to take the lead in the moderate guished men from all parts of France 
Republican party which was afterwards and of Europe, between lines of silenl 
admitted to be Ins natural right. Even men and women, was a. warning to the 
Thiers was surprised to find Gambetta ministry in power that it could not turn 
SO much of a statesman as lie proved in a nation aside from its convictions. A 
that crisis. million of people on foot in Paris on that 

The Bonapartists were active, but not September day proclaimed their devotion 
in the front of this conspiracy against to the Republican idea which Thiers 
the Republic. The death of Napoleon had so frankly defended, after having 
III., in 1873, in the sylvan 
seclusion of Chiselhurst, in 
England, removed the chief 
pretender from the scene, 
and but little fear was had 
of the movements of his son. 
who was quietly finishing his 
education in an English mili- 
tary academy. Hut no one 
knows what party might have 
come uppermost had a, breach 
of order been provoked ami 
the Republic destroyed in 

1 S 7 7 . It was inexpressibly 
sad that M. Thiers should 
pass away when tins cloud 
of darkness was over the 
country for which he had 
done so much, — sad that his 
last days might not have 
been cheered by the spectacle 
of a successful liberal govern- 
ment, like that to which he 
frankly owned his own con- 
version. The funeral of this great been, as he was wont to say, a monarch- 
and good man, on the 8th of Sep- ist almost all his life. Paris, on that 
tember, 1*77. was one of the most day. learned a lesson of self-control 
striking spectacles that I ever wit- which has been very useful to it in 
nessed. The Republican party intended many troublous times later on. 
to make it a tremendous manifestation, No American reader who has not 

but felt the necessity, in doing this, of lived in Europe can form any adequate 
preventing, at all cost, any violence or idea of the pressure brought to bear 
display of strong emotion, as this would upon Republicans during this year of 
have afforded a pretext for the repression 1877 in France. The whole weight of 
which was ready to hand. The dead prejudice, of the prestige of centuries 
Thiers, followed to Pere La Chaise by of wealth, of established religion, was 
thousands upon thousands of distin- brought to bear upon liberals; and the 




THE END op a ROMANCE. NAPOLEON III. ON Ills 
DEATH-BED. 



MS EUROPE IN STORM AND CALM. 

burden was so grievous that at times vigor with which his face was filled. It 
they could scarcely support it. Distin- was not a handsome lace, nor vet an 
guished orators and publicists were artistic or refined our ; but a stranger 
compelled to speak in little and ill- who had heard little of Gambetta, and 
ventilated halls, to -which none but their who had never seen him, would say, in 
constituents were admitted, and these contemplating it, " This is the face of a 
by ticket, in the old, stingy fashion in man of vast power, who would overcome 
tone under the Empire. Public meet- obstacles unsurmountable by other men, 
tngs in their broadest sense were mi- who would not be east down in adversity ; 
known. Louis Blanc refused me a a man fertile in surprises, abounding in 
ticket to one of his addresses before unexpecting triumphs, capable of turning 
his constituents, saying, that it' I were imminent danger into immediate victory." 
recognized as a nou-voter the conse- He will long be remembered as the pas- 
quences tor me and for the controllers of sionately eloquent lawyer, the defender of 
the meeting would he most unpleasant. Baudin, the mighty tribune, the brilliant 
When this final conservative effort was member of the opposition to the Second 
at an end, ami the weights were taken Empire-, the ex-dictator, the fiery soul 
from the Republic's breast, there was which could not brook the idea of tame 
rapid progress for several years ; yet the .submission even when all hope was lost, 
almost majestic programmes of men like the noble parliamentarian, the sincere 
Gambetta were thwarted and even set Republican, the patriot, the adroit ami 
aside because of the jealousies of inferior far-seeing Republican. He was the 
men. the intrigues of churchmen and of fountain from which sprang the Re- 
specialists. Gambetta had a fine political publican energy. There were moments 
career as President of the Chamber, in when the entire Republican organization 

which official position he was very power- of the c ntry seemed epitomized in him. 

ful ; but his enemies, after having crowded He was leader, teacher, master, father, 

him out of the presidential chair and mentor. 

forced him into the ministry, which he It was commonly said in Germany, 

did not wish to enter, merely thai they after Gambetta ami Skobeleff hail both 

might have the pleasure of compelling disappeared from the- scene of European 

him to leave it afterwards, made his action, that Prussia had been spared by 

latter days unhappy. His death, which providential intervention in her behalf a 

was caused by a pistol wound in one of tremendous campaign against her. It is 

his hands at a time when his system was certain that General Skobeleff — whose 

greatly enfeebled, would have been a brilliant young lite was cut short by a 

catastrophe lor the Republic had he not swift stroke of late in Moscow, where he 

left behind him capable men who could was sojourning in one of the intervals of 

carry out the brilliant programme he his busy military career — and, Gambetta 

had sketched. He left behind him not were both much in favor of n waragainst 

only this noble plan, but an untarnished < termauy ; a war the date for which was 

reputation as an administrator in troub- by no means decidedon ; a war which could 

Ions times. Looking al his picture the not be indefinitely postponed. Taken 

night after his strong and earnest life between the millstones of Russia and 

ended with the year 1882, I was pro- of France, some of the German peoples 

roundly impressed with the abundant might possibly have been crushed. 



EUROPE IX STORM AXI> CALM. 



849 



After the death of the Prince Imperial, 
as the English people still continue to 
call the son of Napoleon III., the hopes 
of the Imperialist party in France fell to 
the ground. The young prince had had a 
good military training, and was a gallant 
soldier ; hut his skill and zeal availed 
him nothing against the arrows of a few 
naked South Africans, and he was brought 
home to lie in the little chapel of St. 
Mary's at Chiselhurst, to which the 
Empress makes melancholy pilgrimages, 
often mournfully alluding to it as the 
shrine which holds the wreck of all her 
earthly grandeur and her hopes. The 
funeral of this young prince at Chisel- 
hurst was a very remarkable affair. It 
brought out the whole strength of the 
English aristocracy, which adopted the 
occasion as a kind of manifestation, even 
the Queen coming to pay her last respects 
tothe son of Napoleon III. It was observ- 
able, however, that there were but few 
French people present, and scarcely any 
who represented the highest genius or 
intelligence of France. 

The Republic goes steadily on its way • 
rejoicing, now and then in fear and 
trembling, but never retreating, and its 
influence in Europe is wider than is 
imagined by even the most enthusiastic 
French Republican. Threatened men, it 
is said, live long : and the downfall of 
the Republic has been predicted so often 
by England, Germany, even Italy, by- 
Austria, by Spain, and by other powers 
too numerous to mention, that its longev- 
ity is now believed in. It had but one 
victory to accomplish, — the victory over 
itself, over its follies and licenses, which 
had been so conspicuous in the past ; 
and when the huge pageant, greater than 
any ever before seen in Paris, poured 
through the Champs Elysdes the other 
day, behind a simple hearse, in which the 
bod} - of the master poet of his time was 
carried to the Pantheon, it was notice- 



able that Jacobinism and anarchy were 
scarcely represented at all in the throng ; 
and even Jacobins and anarchists who 
had the audacity to parade were com- 
pelled before they took part in the 
procession to lav aside their tlags and 
emblems. On the day of Victor Hugo's 
burial listening Europe seemed to heat 
a voice from the Pantheon preaching, as 




PRESIDENT GUEVY, 

the poet had preached all his life long. 
peace and good-will, fraternityof peoples. 
unity of action and of sentiment, the 
abolition of superstitions and formular- 
isms, diffusion of education and of light, 
pardon. reconciliation, and hopeful 
struggle towards the highest ideal. Eu- 
rope listened ; but will she take the 
words to heart? Will she not alternate 
from storm to calm, from calm to storm. 
through the latter years of this century, 
as she has through its first and middle 
periods, putting away from her the noble 
epoch of continuous peace and harmony 
which the venerable poet so boldly pro- 
claimed ? 



INDEX 



A 

Adam, M Edmond, and the National Guard, 231. 

Agriculture in Roumania, 741. 

Ai ami ■.■ i! , i ieneral, 70. 

Alber r Edward, Prince of Wales, Income of, 560. 

— — — — Influence of, at home and abroad, 561, 
Household of, 568. 

Am K2 vi . Dii . Historj of, 118. 

— Cathedra] of the, 11^'. 

— Gardens of tin-. 130. 

— I )c San In. in , 123, 

At < - i 1 (.in Paris during the Revolution, 488. 

Alexandi i II., of Russia, Attempted assassination of, 26. 

— Visit i" Paris, 25 

Alfonso XI J . King of Spain, 79, 

— Marriage of, 93. 

— At a Bull-fight, 103. 
Ai fonso i he t It iod, 129. 
Algeria, Politii a] pi isi mers in, 45. 

Ai r .mm. Hi'' AM"', E secul ion of, 496. 
Alsatia demanded by the Germans, 272. 
Ai.sai i vns, The protest of, 388. 
Ai vari • I »i I -una, I ion, 121. 

Vmadbo of llaK , 7s. 

\mi. i an< i ( 'OMPANIES, during the Commune, 447. 

\ l ■■ Ml ii', rhe, in Paris during the Com- 

mune. 444. 
Ameru ans in Paris during the Commune, 431, 180. 

\ \ ■ i i \ , 1 25 

\ . ; m \-- \ . I ount, 672. 

\ ro ; i i i. ( .iulm.il, and Leo XIII. 115. 

Ai i ii - . Hie, Tunnels through, 404. 

'■ \ i ii \i to the People," The, 44. 

A psi iv Hoi i- . 631 

Ai:.\ in Bey, Revi ill of, 821. 

Aranjuez, gi 

Ai n i ration, The believers in, 844, 

Ari di Triomphe, The, Statuary on, 451. 

\ ri ii r.i .ii' ip i ii Pa Ris, Arrest of, 446. 

\; in r, Fred, in England and Paris, 624. 

\RGENTEUIL, View of Paris from, 334. 

■ Effect oi the wai in, 382, 
Army oi the Rhine . I he, 321. 
Art in Spain, ill 
Art-s< hoi -I in I .ondon, 627. 
\ . , John, 711. 
Assi, Citizen, 44'.i. 
A roi h .\ Chi f c h , 93. 
A i in \ .i i m I i in of Barcelona, 86. 
V' mi , the composer, Reminiscences of, 467. 
An rhi IM, during the siege of Paris, 279, 
Augier, Emile, at the funeral of V. Hugo, 840. 
Ai ii n IK' Emperor of, Characteristics and simple life 
of, 813 



Austria. Religion in, 813 

Ai -■ i rians, The, in Italy, 399. 

\\ im i n'l talie, The prison in the, 407 

\ \ i mi i de la Grande Akmee, 444. 



B 

BACCARO, Dominique, 505, 

Bailen, I lm hess of, 95 

Baker, Sir Samuel, in the Soudan, 825. 

i'.Ai DWIN [., 771'.. 

Balkans, The neighborhood <>f the, 766. 

— Through the, 772. 

— The Russians in the, 7s:; 
Banderillero, The (Bull-fighter), 106. 
Ba ik of 1- ngland , The, 616 

Barbier, .A , and the Venddme Column, 468. 
I Iarce lona, 1 >e: i i iption of, 85 

— To Valem ia, Journ< y from, HG 

Ba n ' valor al I .e Bourget, 824. 

B iRi im. Wilson, 630. 

Bashi- b \/< iuks, The, 756. 

! 136 

Bavaria, flu monarchs of, 792-4. 

— The Royal Brewer) in, 704. 

— t 'atholit ism in, 795. 
BAVA RIAN Si 'I I'll I-, 216. 

[:\\ aim ', Statue of, 301 

Bazaini . Marshal, and ( '■< neral Frossard, 202. 

— Retreat upon Metz, 207 

— In Metz dui ing the lege 310 

— Advi( e i" Ins soldiei - . 310. 

— His army at Metz, 316? 

— (.'nurse at Metz criticised, 319, 
Razeilles to Ills', From, after the war, 257. 
Beaconsfield, Lord, Policy of, 092, 

— And the Home Rulers, 6E1. 

— \n4 Mr, i Uadstone, 663. 

— Ilis career, 664, 

— His I k: , 666 

— Personal description of, 668. 

— Return from Berlin, 669. 

— At the Berlin Congress, 786. 
Be .\im< >vi . Battle in, 243. 
Beaumi int-Va v, Vici irnte • 

, 650, 
Be lgia .- . 1 h< King of the, 842, 
Bellemare, < ieneral de, at Montretout, 368. 
Belleville, Proci ssion through, 499. 

— Episode during the fight at, 505 
Beni detti, Count, and Bismarck, 153 

— Visit i.. King William, 168 



INDEX. 



851 



Benedict, Sir Julius, 627. 
Berlin and Bismarck, 616. 

— Congress, The Representatives at, 780. 
Its results, 790. 

— Treaty, The, 786. 
Bergeret imprisoned, 455. 
Berryek, M., Eloquence of, 14.". 
Biarritz, Description of, 58. 
Birmingham, its history, 640, 

Bismarck, Count Von, at the Berlin Congress, 786. 

— In Paris during the Exposition of 1807, 28, 

— And Napoleon III., 152. 

— And Count Benedetti, 153. 

— In difficulty, 177. 

— And the surrender of Napoleon III., 252. 

— Interview with Napoleon III., 255. 

— And M. Jules Favre at Ferriferes, 270. 

— (hi the policy "f France since Louis XIV., 271. 

— Personal characteristics of, 273. 

— On Napoleon III., 27-4. 

— And General Boyer, 320. 

— At tlv Coronation at Versailles, 365. 

— And the National Guards, 368 

— And Berlin, 816. 

— His influence in Europe and what it may lead to, 810. 
Black Cabinet in the Post-office, Paris, 163. 

Black Hand, <>r, Mann Negra, Society uf the, 12.".. 
Blanc, Louis, Speech in the Assembly at Bordeaux, 394. 
Blanqui, Thirty years in prison, 474. 
Blois, The Imperial Court at, 176. 
Bois i»n Vesinet, French troops in, 369, 
Bonaparte, Joseph, King of Spain, 55. 

— Joseph, 126. 

— Prince Pierre, 133. 

'•'< indy, Am ; .iii wood of, 349. 

— Massing of uncus in, 350. 
Bonim, General Von, at Nancy, 290, 

Bi i Iain. General, Celebrated charge of, 199, 

Bordeaux \ -■ e h bi . , The, 385. 

Bo i \. History of the insurrection in 1875,669. 

Bi iuu igne, Burning i if v illage of, 360 

Boi rbaki and Belfoi i , 366. 

Bourbi in, I )on Enrique de, 130. 

Bourbons in Spain, The fall uf the, 57. 

Bradlaugh, Mr . in the Hall of Science, 600. 

— In London and Paris, 602. 
BrASSEUr's heroism, 324. 
Bridgi of the Dead, 314. 
Bright, John, at Birmingham, 578. 

— His opinion of Gladstone, 668. 
Brighti in, 529. 

Brindisi and Naples, 403. 
Bri M iH rON, < leorge, 626. 
Bry-sur-Marne, Battle at, 341. 
Bw iw M-.' ., Ri ib< it, 634, 
Bucharest, The city of, 719. 

— The plague in, 720, 

— Routes to, 72M-1, 

— And New Orleans, 721. 

— Notes on, 722. 

— Legends of the Capital, 720. 

— The Podan Mogosol, 723. 

— The priests in, 726 

— The Metropolitan Church. 727. 

— St. Spiridion the New, 727. 

— Evidences of Turkish rule in, 733. 



Bucharest, Greek plays in, 740. 

— And Jassy, The towns between. 743, 
Buckingham Palace, Memorials of, 556 
Bulgaria, The Russians in, 748. 

— Imperial headquarters at TV.arevitza, 753. 

— " Young Bulgaria " League, 1 he, 763, 

— Insurrection of 1862, 763, 

— 1 he Circassians in, 765, 

— Villa-es of the Pomatzy, The, 768. 

— Russian agents in, 704. 

— Schools of, 768 

— Passes in, 771-2. 

— Sketch of the history of, 775. 

— Turkish rule and taxation in, 776-7. 

— 1 he insane in, 777. 

Bi lgarian atrocities, The, 672. 

— Men, 752. 

— Peasants, 752. 

Bt 1 1 .a rians, The, in 1851, 763. 

Bulgarian's views of the Bulgarian Question, 772. 

Bull-fighting in Madrid, 101-110, 

Bi ri ■ is Cathedra) , 60. 

Bi rgoyne, sir John, saves the Empress, 22.8. 

Burnabv, Lieut. Col. Fred, Heath of, 833. 

Burns, Robert, The home of, 047. 

I : ' ii. Marquis of, 571. 

Buttes Chaumont, The final struggle on the, 509. 

Buzenval, Battle at, 271 



C/Esar, Augustus, 64. 
Cafe Americain, The, 471 
Cambridge, The Duke of, 567. 
Canal de L'< >URCQ, 348. 
I \ oi i r 1 . < ■ >. m i.il, 213. 
Cari ists, The, 56 

(. AS3 i.m LOBAU, Executions at the, . r >16. 
Castelar. Tour through Spain, . r '7. 

— Political career of, 7s. 

— At home, 97. 

— And the United States, 98, 

— As a leadei , 99. 

— And Gambetta, 100. 
Catalanian People. The, 85. 
Catholic ceremonial of marriage, 96. 
Cattaro, History of. HI'S 

Cattakm toTsettinj£, Journey From, 697-699 
Cavendish, Lord F., Assassination of, 654. 
Cavour, Count, and the Austrians in Italy, 399. 
Cespedes; poet, painter, etc , 124. 
Chamberlain, Joseph, and Sir Charles Dilke, 594. 

— In Parliament, 604 
Chambers, Sir William, 545. 
ChAMBOrd, Cotnte de, Protest of, ,''.4. 
Champigny, Rattle at, 341. 

— The country around after the battle, 346. 
Champ de Mars, Execution on the, 490. 
Champs Elvsees, Communists in, 443. 
Changarnier, Genera], Pint of, 42. 

— Visit to Friederich Karl, 316, 

— Appeals for peace, 394 

Chapei of " The new Kings," The, 122. 



852 



im>/:a 



Charles T\ ,55 

( kase, The, in Fram 

( mai i ai d' I' ai , The battle at the, 500. 

— — The jetie.it from, 505. 

— • >i 1 ra aii. I he, 310 
Chateaudun, Heroic defense of , 307 
Chatillon, The fight at, 266, 
Chatswok in, 041. 

Chaucer, in 1 leet Street, 610, 

Chaude \ , i lustave, M urdei of, 498. 

Chei !.(■ 5, Vbbej of, 340. 

' in erv, Mi , editor of the "Time--." 618, 

Children oi London and Paris, The, 521. 

Chiswh k, I listoi i> so ties in, 543 

— Historic al events in, 543 
Choisv-le-Roi, after the war, Scenes in, 3S4, 
Chris i ina, Vn hdu< hess, 04 
Christmas in War Time, 354. 

I ii ami s i a i l in Spain, 7:' 

— mi La Trinite", The fight around, 488. 

— of Saini Laurent, 504 

— of San J i an de los Reyes, The, 122. 

— of the Virgin dei Pilar, The, 64. 

ClD CAMPl \ i " iR, lOl 

( i sy, Gen. ral, 501 

City i n Pleasure, The, "19 

Civita Vei chia, French expedition to, 401 

C lam art K ah w ay Statu in, The fight for, 459. 

( i ft re . row Ijarku a i 'I-. The, 508 

( i mi in-, M Jules, on the Germans, 184 

Clin want, < leneral, at Montmartre, 4M' 

\ii.u 1 ..n the « li.ik-.ui d'Eau, 501 
t.. l.cn mi de , Pi ini i ■■• . and tin l mpress, ;> 
Cl userei . * leneral, at the head of the insurrection, 146, 148 

— At the head, etc., 448. 

— At Fort Issj . 155 

— Arrest of, 455 

— rrial of, 171 

— Escapes to Constantinople, 503. 
< i iBi i •- 1 ■', Troops hi, IN5. 

Coli mbi ., * in istophei , 123. 

( 'i immis i' -■■ oi V: a sins, 11m-, 517 

Communai Tri iop . The, 132 

— Journalism, Notes on, 438. 

— Instruction Commission, Visit lo, 449. 
Ci iM mi -I- , The, ' nem < menl oi . 54 

— First action of, 221 

— Hard at work, 224 

— i tutbreak oi the, 420. 

— 1 teclaration ol the, [34 

— I ami ius de< i ee i 't , 137, 

— The hostages decree, 145 

— The fete of thi . 136 

— First important battle, 4:'>7. 

■1.1 n-\ lew . 150 

— Armistice, 451 

— Touching i pi ;ode dm ing, 152, 

— The di ( Kim. tint v pei iod, 157 

— The combal at the southern forts, 458, 

— Suppresses the newspapers, 163 

— Journal of, H>1 

— And the Established ( hurch, 465 

— Measures against soi ial /ices, 471. 

— Decree of the Committee of Public Safety, 47;;. 

— The members of the, 475 

COMMUNI : LDIE1 I - ! 



i--i Prisoners, Massacre of, 514 
Communists, The, during the siege of Paris, 303. 

— And the landlords, 4.;.". 

— At the funeral of V. Hugo, 840. 

— Methods uf tiring houses, 485 

l OMPIEGNE, Imperial Court at. 31 

— In the time of Louis Philippe, 31 

— Visit of the Emperor and Empress to, 37. 
\musements of the Court at, 38 

— The programme of the season at, 38 

— Visit of the King of Prussia lo, 151, 
( "Mil-: de Laborde, The. 125. 

( oni ii i -:i, i in-, The noted prison of the, 404, 
i !ond£, Prince of, 14-'-. 
Congo ( oni ;ress, The result of the, 842. 
( ■ i is i \ble of Castile, 121. 

Constantinople, General < rko's descent upon, 784 , 

The Turk in, 788 
Conti, M., at the Bordeaux Assemblj Excil 392 

l i >N\ ENT "l Jl RUSA LEM, ,;i - 

t onve ■ rs oi Paris, Invasion of thi . 166 

v i i] i- I .EGISI ATI! Ill 1S52, 1 10 

— — Invasion of the, 231 
Ci irdi >\ a, The city of, 124 

< orbi ii , The Prussians in. 297. 
t i >i i es, Palai e of the, 112 

Coi -,i ii hi State, Palace of the, 493. 
i i >i p n'l i a i , The, 4:; 

— Arrest of the deputies . 1 1 

— Horrors of the, 45-6 

Cour des ( omptes, Palace of the, 193 

Courbet, Gustave, member of the Communal Council, 475. 

< il : i i -, . Mi , 589 
i ■ ,i !olonel, 736 

i ovi n i < Iardi is, The clubs in, 633. 

t 'rani . Sir Franc is, 544. 

Creil, Scenes in, 432. 

I [.. i,\i\\i-:i i . I 'liver, at Ham J >lon ( '<mi I , ,V>0 

i rown Prini i of Prussia, The, and Steinmetz, 203. 

— — — At the Coronation at Versailles, 365 
t 'ri a\ ■. Prince's Redoubt, The, 378. 
Crystal Palace, The, 544 

Cure of the Madeleine. Arrest of. 446. 
Curious Photograph, A, 518. 



D 

Dai matia, The co?st of, 676 
Dampiekre, General, Death of, 304. 
Dam be . I he si enery of, 703-705 

— A Sturm on, 706. 

— i lypsies on, 707. 

— Wayside inns along the, 712 

I i >.' i.i \ . Archbishop, Execution of, 496. 
Deauville, Arrival of the Empress at, 237. 
De Failly, General, at Beaumont, 242 
I >i i.i i rry, The Abbe", Execution of, 196 
I hi esi luze and the Communists, 456 

I leath of, 502 
De Lesseps M . and H M Stanley, 844. 
I >i-\n crac s in I- ngland, 591 . 595 

— Aims of, 596 

1 h km , At the, 623 



INDEX. 



*:,:; 



Derby Day, Scenes on the road, 624. 

— Ear], 571. 

Derbyshire, Rural beauty in, 639. 

Devonshire, Duke of, 592. 

De Wimpffen, Genera], Arrival at Metz, -44. 

— Character of, 245. 

— As General -in-Chief , 246. 

— Letter to Napoleon III., 248, 

— Quarrel with Ducrot, 251. 

— And Bismarck, 252. 

D'H^risson, Count. Account of the flight of the Em- 
press, 235. 
" 1 1[,\ ha," The, 93. 

Dickens, Charles, as an after-dinner speaker, 5 I L, 
Dieppe, The Germans at, .">L'7. 
Dilke, Sir Charles, at home and abroad, . r ''.i4. 
Dimitriowski and General Radetzky, 758. 
] Iocs, in the East, 711. 
Dombrowski, General, sketch of his career, 454. 

— Death of, 4s;;. 

— His seven hundred horsemen, 484. 
Dominican Brothers, Massacre of the, 4'.>7. 
I li in Carlos, 56, 

DoN' Emilio, 90. 

Do re iii London, 538. 

Douay, General, at Weissenburg, 192. 

— In the Faubourg du Temple, 509. 
Douchan, Stephen, 671. 

Dkagimiroff, General, Personal description of, 758. 
Drenkova, Gypsies at, 713 
Dublin and its chief features, 658. 

— The environs of, 660. 

— And Liverpool, 662. 

In ( ami . Maxime, Criticism of, 465, 

— And M. Thiers, 512. 

hi i rot, General, in Strasbourg, 170. 

— Tactics of, criticised, 247. 

— Escape of, 322. 

— At Champigny, 341. 
I tuFFERiN, Lord, 651 

Dupin, M. and Napoleon III., 33. 
Duval. Death of, 437. 



E 

Earle, General, in Egypt. 833. 

Eastern Question in 1875, 669. 

Ecumenical Council at Rome, The, 410. 

Edinburgh, old and new, Memorials of, ii4. r >. 

Edward, Prince, 565. 

Egypt, Battle at Tel-el-Kebir, B22 

— The El Mahdi, 823. 

— Battles at El ( >beid ; Hicks Pasha and his force, 824 

— The Mudir of Dongola ; Bombardment of Beibi-i, ^i.'. 

— Abu-Klea, 833 

— The battle at Metemneh ; Fall of Khartoum, 834. 
h<.-, ptian War, The origin of, 821 

El Gebir, 128. 

Eliot, George, 641. 

Elizabeth, Queen, at Windsor Castle 552 

Elsasshausen to Morsbronn, 199. 

Elysee, The, Palace of the, 43. 

Enghien, Battle near. 336 

Em. i. and and the food supply. 525. 

— Its fortifications, 528 



England, The white cliffs of, 530. 

— Plain speaking in. 591. 

— Radicalism in, 591, 595. 

— Sources <d revenue in, 594. 

— The coming struggle, 597. 

— Public meetings in, 0il4. 

— Fox-hunting in, 636. 

— Tenant farmers in, 636. 

— Rural beauty of, 638. 

— The Lake Country, 642. 

— And the Riisso-Turkish War, 7*4. 
Engi \nd's Soudan Campaign, 821-835. 
I <■! i-.n Channel, The, 527. 

— Seaside resoi ts, 529. 

— Royalty, charges which it entails, 559. 

— Painters. 626 

— Manners and dress, 629. 

— Army m 1878, 1-.Hh.i- ikv of, 786. 

— Royal Family : Queen Victor! 

Albert Edward, Prina oi Walt -. 56L 

— Princess of Wales, 561 

Prince Edward, 565. 

— Duke of Edinburgh, 566. 

— — — Princess Louise, 566. 

— Duke of Connaught, f)66. 

Duke of Albany, 5G6. 

— Duke- of Cambridge, 567. 

i ■ : *.y, before and after the war, L93. 

Epinai after the war, 382. 

Episode in the Franco-* lerman War, 382. 

Epitaph on Frederick, Prince of Wales, 563. 

Ep< ii li i if Unifica i ion, The, 1 1*. 

Escott's England, Extracts from, "77, 583. 

I si iiviAL, The great vault of the, 62, 

Eski Zaghra, Destruction and massacn in, 773, 

i G neral, at the burning of Paris, 192. 

— Madame, I'M 

l genie, Empress, and the war, 177. 

— Flight of, 235. 

— Dangerous passage across the Channel, 238. 

— Arrival in London, 238, 

— Despatch of, to Napoleon III , 239 

— Wardrobe of, 239. 

— Library of, 262 

Evans, Dr., and the Empress Eugenie, 236. 
Exiles, The, Return of, to France, 261, 
Expiatory Chapel, The destruction of, 472. 



Faidherbe, General, at St. Quentin, 366, 

Failly, General de. 183. 

Faubourg St. Hi inorii, The destruction on the, 491. 

Favre, Jules, in the Corps Legis'.atif, 143. 

— And Count Bisman k, 1 16 

— And Ollivier, L'L'i). 

— Speech and motion nf, 224. 

— And Bismarck at Ferrieres, 270. 

— Impressions of Bismarck, -''.'>. 

— Conclusion of the interview with Bismarck, 273. 

— Account of the insurrection in Paris, 326. 

— Letter to Gambetta, 340. 

— Mission to Versailles, 373, 

— And Bismarck at Versaillc-s, .".74. 

— Speech at the Bordeaux Assembly, 387, 



854 



INDEX. 



Ferdinand II, 128 

Ferdina s'd VI 1 , 55. 

Kerre, rheophile, Extract from lettei of, J66, 

i ■ y of M Jules Favre to, 270. 

Ferry, Jules, election in 1869, 144. 

— And the insurrection in Paris, 325 
Figaro ["hi , 50 

I i i [A l Reform League, The (London i, 599, 

I i ! ■ IN : m i r, Mr; ,548. 

I i i .. ■; i i , M and the visit of Alexander II. to Paris, 

— At t he obsequies of V 1 1 ugi >. 840 

!■ 'i oi ii is, ' !u ;.iv e, I ailun and flight of, 103, 

— Heads the insurrei tion, 326 

— Death of, I .;: 

Forsti r, W K , and the Irish Question, 653. 
Fort Issy, 360 

— — During the Revolution, 458 

I i \ ■.' e during the Si cond Empire, L' 1 - "• 4 . 

— Danger of riots in, in 1870, 158 

— The " n ibune " I <Q 

— I vents in, 1870, 165, 

— Policj of, since I ouis XIV., 271 

— 1 1 1 1 1 r rals in, S38. 

— \inl the n suit of the ( i mgi i I oni rence, 3 (J 
Franco-German War, The, 165-384 

i i a ■ i i < irt, Wounded soldiers at, 216, 
I ! I m ii re in i860, 1 he, 132-136 

— Imperial press law and stamp tax, 138. 

— i hambei , opening i en im mies, 1 HI 

— Army, condition ol the, in 1870, 172. 

— And Pi ussian history, * rreai events in, 318, 

— And * lerman soldiers compared, 338. 
Friends of < >rder, The, 428. 
Froshwe i ler, The village of, 198. 



G 

< ; abri w \ , fight near, 7t',4. 

— 1 he town of, 766-7. 

— S< hools of, in 1871, 768 

— Convent for women near, 771. 
Gai.atz, 7 1 4 

Galliffet, Marquis de, and the desei ters, 511, 
G i : a and i !ast< lar, 57, 100 

— And the Baudin subscription, 136, 

— And iht Rlveil Journal, 136. 

— 1 [ead of the " Irrei on< ilabli ■ ." 138 

— In tin- Corps Legislatif, 143. 

— And M. Thiers' projei i , 230 

— And the invasion of the Corps Legislatif, 231. 

— Voyage in a balloon, 304, 

■ - Slanderous accusation against, 328 
■ \\ ork in the South, 328, 

— Death of, 848 

i . Ahi i;a i i 'i ai E'ordi aux, 380 

— H is influem e ai Bordeaux, 396 

— And In- Famous "II sand," 400, 

i ,.\ RNir r-Pagi ,167 

i ,,\i rh i, at Hampton « "ourt, 5 19 
Gasparin, M. Agenoi de, at Belleville, 174 
Gate oi i in- Si -;. The I Puerta del Sol ), 122. 
( '.i mi ia, I Kike oi , Pi in< e of thi Hou ■ i if S n 03 . 58 
Gi er iHEiM, < in the road to, 191. 

1 tesi t iption of, 196. 
George II ,564. 



1 -i 1 .i- [II., and his Court ai Windsi u , 554 
German Army, The, in 1870, 186, 

— — The, in the North, 366, 

— Military discipline, 218 

— * hitposts, how Eortified, 348, 
■ — Soldiei 5 in Paris, 126, 

( Iermany, The Passion Play in, 795 

— Its position in Eun >pe, 817. 

— Industi 1.1I ti iumph of, 817, 

— In Africa, 818. 

Girard, Mr., account of the execution ol Archbishop 

Darboy, 496, 
( riF ardin, M I' mile de, 50. 
Glenn, Mr , in Paris during thi ( ommune, 516 
Gladstone, M P., and the Irish question, 652, 

— And Lord Beaconsfield's policy of empire and 1'berty, 

663. 

— His ( areer, 664 

— As .i siatesman, 666 

— 1 11 and "Hi of Parliament, 668 

— Persona] des( 1 iption of, 668, 

— < >n the Turkish govi rnment, 673, 

— Ministry, The, and the creation of peers, 581. 

< .1 asgow, its commerce and its aniiquitii i, 643 

— The water supply of, 648, 

I ioBi 11. M , at tin nbsequies of V. Hugo, 840. 
Goni 1 . rhe guard at, 317 
Goi d 1 hmidt, Mr., 627, 

< Ii 'i esCi ■. ' 'onstantine, 7.:7. 

Gordon, < '. G., < reneral, as ( '.overoor-Gener.il of the 
Soudan, 824-826 

— Ami Km- Leopold, 826, 

— In Khartoum, 827, 

— Despatches to Sir E. Baring, 828, 830, 

— 1 ,;i acts from diary, 829. 

— And Zebehr Pasha, 830 

— Extracts from letters "f, 832. 

— Death of, 834. 

— Relief expedition, Tin 1 , £30 

Gorny Sti den, The Russian emperor at, 780-2. 

I .. iR r.SCH AKi IFF, I 'mi. i;, 7ML'. 

— At the Berlin Congress, 786. 

Government of National Defense, Proclamation of, 367 

— — — Proclamation <if, at the end of tin.- siege "f Paris, 

375 
G01 1 i.''. 1 '■■ neral, expedition of, into the Balkans, 782-4. 
Graham, i General, in Egypt, 828 
( Irami ■-. 1 , I Hike de, 1»>7 
Grand Docks oi Paris, The, in flames, 499. 
Gravesend, II istoi i> ,il souvenirs "1 . 53 I 

l Ire \ 1 1 . .mm] 1 ■ 1 ai II [GHWAY, The, 531. 
( .1, i \ i I ' SERALS, 439 

Grebzi, The village "f, 685. 

— The rebel army in. *'>77. 
Greeks in Roumania, 740. 

— In Tirnova, 7t;l 

i Irei ley, Horace, 50, 

Greenhi 

i .11 bnwii ii. r>;::; 

Historii si 'in - in. 534. 

— Hospital, 534 

( Ire m am, sic Thomas, 615. 

Grew, M Jules, President of the Assembly at Bordeaux, 

388 
i ■ ■ .i Gai LERY, The, 627 

— House, 63] 



INDEX. 



855 



Grotto of Heri ules, 11.". 
Grousset, M.Pascal, and the Commune, 461. 
— Sentence and escape of, 518. 
Grove, Sir George, 627 
Guildhall, 606. 
Guillotines, Burning of the, 438. 



H 

Halle, Charles, in London, 627, 
Hamilton, Duke of, 571. 
Hammersmith, Historical events in, 542. 
Hampton Court, its history, 549 

The tapestries of, 550 

Hangerli, Constantine, Assassination of, 728 

Hapsburgs, The, 96 

Hartington, The Marquis of, 593, 

Hastings, 529 

Hatton, on the future of Birmingham, 640. 

Henry II. before Metz, 318. 

Henry III. and the Protestant Montbrun, 812. 

Herzegovina, a day with a vbivoda, 677. 

— History of the insurrection in. 1875, 660. 

— Among the rocks of, 675. 

— Journey from Ragusa to, 676. 

— Tomo, the guide, 680. 

— Peko Pavlovic, 683. 

— Council of war, 686. 
Herzegovinan Warriors, 685 
Holland, Charles, at Chiswick, 543. 
Horse-racing, Scenes at Epsom, 623. 

Famous Jockeys, 624. 

The Ascot and the < >ak, 626, 

Hotel lies Invalided, Invasion of, 425. 
Hotel de VlLLE, The procession to the, 234. 

Communists in, 428 

During the Commune, 448 

— — The burning of, 486,500. 
Ruins of, 504. 

House of Commons, Aristocratic element in, 570. 

The Speaker, 577. 

The Irish members in the, 587 

The procedure in, - r is:'. 

A conscientious member, 583. 

The Treasury Whip; Parliamentary forms, 585. 

Oddities of, 586. 

English representation in, 587 

Anomalies of English representation, 687. 

Reform of, and the redistribution bill, 588, 

House of Lords, The throne, 576. 

The Lord Chancellor, 577. 

The procedure in the, 578 

Additions sine- 1859. 582. 

Offices disposed of by, 595, 

Hugo, Charles, Funeral of, 427. 

— Victor, and the Imperialist cause, 44. 
In Spain, 55 

— — Return from exile, 261. 

Speech in the Bordeaux Assembly, 393 

And the Vendome Column, 46S. 

On the death of Captain Harvey, 532 

And the English Channel, 531, 

Protest against capital punishment, 836 

Religion of, 837. 

Verses of, on Napoleon III. ; Death of, 836, 



Hugo, Victor, Obsequies of, 839 

A retrospection, 848. 

What he preai hed, 849. 

]]i mbert, King, and Queen Marghenta, 414. 
Hungarian < rown, The chapel of the, 708. 
1 [ i ngary, * raiova, 711. 

— Features "i, 709. 

— Orsova, 704-9 

— Mehadia, 70l>. 

— The Tsiganes, 710 

— The dogs of Orsma, 71t>. 
H ym- Park , scenes in, 631. 



I< inatieff, < leneral, 732 

Industrial Exhibition in Milan and Turin, 404. 

i . ii [sitio -■. The, 130, 

Institution of the H<>ly Cross, The, 452. 

International Asm h iation, The, 843. 

Of workingmen, The objects of, 51. 

Letter of, 175. 

— Boat-race at Putney, 540, 542, 
Internationale, The < Irigin of, 52. 

— Programme of, 52-53. 

— Influent e of, in Spam, 55. 

— Movement of, in 1870, 174. 
Invisible Court, The, of Kn^land, 568-569. 
Ireland, The Land League, 652, 

— The Coercion Act, 652. 

— The Crimes Bill, <•■">!. 

— The land agitation in, 651. 

— Crimes in, 654. 

— "The Invincibles," 654. 

— A Land League mass meeting, 656 

— The wild and savage peasantry of, 657, 

— Dublin ( astle, 658 

— Trinity College, 659. 

— St. Patrick's Cathedral, 659. 

— Phcenix Park, 660 

— Queenstown harbor, 660, 662, 
| ■, i ?IG Henry, Gl*0. 

I . ... |; : ,,.,. , I >■■ ■ ■ ption -i journey from, G I. 

I -aim I., Queen, 56, 94, 

Italian Army ami Navy, The, 406. 

— War-ships, 407. 
Italy, and France, 1 tS, 

— Upgrowth of her nationality, ."-00. 

— Alliance of Prussia and, 397, 

— Prom Julius II. to Pius VI., 398. 

— And Prussia, ( ampaign of, 100. 

— Beggars in, 404. 

— The civil engineer in, 404. 

— Railways in, 4H-J. 

— Painting in, 4'>.~>. 

— Agricultural progress in, 105-6. 

— Education in, 406. 

— The struggli i ' hurch and State, 407, 

— Civil list of the Kin- of, 41 1, 

— Propheeies of the Catholics in, 4L'4. 



Jacobins, The, at the funeral of Victor II'. 
[ai.hks, The, at Montretout, 366, 



85U 



INDEX. 



Jass\ , Impressions of, 741 

— The Russians in , " The Three Hierarchs," ~i~ 

— Saint Nu holas, 742 

Jaumont Qi arrii , Stor) of the, 214. 

Jeri ime, King, 37. 

[esi i rs, The expulsion of, from Spain, . r >7. 

J.ian of Arc, 31. 

John II, King, 1 — I 

Johnson, In . house in Fleet stree : , 61(1 

f' il RDE, 433. 



Kaiserslautern, Adventures in, 192, 

K.ARA-1 rEl iRGE, "(IS. 

Karl, Prince Friedrich, Field equipage of, 187. 

i »n the road to Metz, 203. 

In froul oi Metz, 310 

Kean Edmund, 548 

Kelli :, M., at the Bordeaux \ss« mbly, 3S8. 
Kehi , ' ierman batteries at, 279. 
Di >ti hi tion of, 281, 

KENS1 -.(, 1 1 IN I rA RD1 MS, 559 

— Pa lace, \n episode of, 558. 
km . and k'-w i lai dens, 545 
Kezanlik, Turks and Bulgarians in, 772. 

— Tradit oi 773 

Knight of La Mancha, 114. 



La Ri ique i te, Visit to the pi ison ■ if, 160. 

— — Prison, Executions in, 497, 

La Villi i i i ■ , The I ommunists in, 199. 
Labi it ■ here, Mr , 594 

— And Mi Bradlaugh, 602 
Lambeth, 539 

Land I \x, The, oi i In ai Bi itain, 596 
Landai . A visit to, I 1 "' 

l . \ -. lois, oi Paris, scream* for vengi anc e, 392. 
Landwbhrsme.m, The, in Versailles, 354. 
Landsdowne, Marquis of, and the Gordon Relief Expedi- 
tion, 831 
Law Students in England, 611. 
Lawson, Sii Wilfred, 623 
I i Bo. . i, Marshal, Failure of plan of, 181. 
Le Bi iuri .i i . I lespi rate battles .it, 323 
Le Comte, General, \ ■ ■ ■ ination of, IC8. 
I,k Franc, M , at the Bordeaux As icmblj , 3 '1 
i i .: ; ■ I Jarago a, 88 

— ( If the i liuw.li of Mihail Voda, 728. 

— ( ti the Kapa, 695 
Legends, of Bucharest, 720, 

I eigh 1 1 in, Sir Fredei i< k, 626 

Leo \ 1 1 1 , Persona] appearance and character of , 41ii 

Daily i ife of, 116-421 

Founds an academy, I 1 -'.'- 

Leopold, Prince, and the Spanish thsone, 166. 

— Of Hohenzollern, 365 

Leva i lois, during the n volution, 459. 
Liverpoi il, Wealth and povi rty of, 662. 

1 .IVRi >'. , I ;ity of, 82. 

Livry, Industry of the soldiers in, 349. 
Ljubibr \ rn . Voivoda, 678 
Lli iyd's, 616. 



Li hre Armi . The defeat of, 345, 
I .i imbard^ , Napoleon III. in, 398, 
London and Paris Compared, 519. 

Mutual respeel between, D26, 

-- I h inking customs in, 525. 

— The poi I ' if. 537 

-■ rhe docks and their revenue; Bridge, 538. 

— Somerset 1 1 < 539 

— 1 1 ishmen in, 587. 

— Municipal reform, 589 

— The land owners of, 590 

— Public-houses in, 599. 

I lie Hall of Si ience, 600. 

— The Metropolitan Tabi rnai li , 599. 

— The Lord Mayor, 604-607. 

— The Recorder; The Mansion House, 605. 

— Guildhall, 60fi 

— Lord Mayor's 1 »ay in ; The < ity ( ompanie , 606. 

— City in in rhe I - mple Bar and Memorial, 609. 

— Fleet street and its historical memories, 610. 
I inc iln's Inn, 610, 

— St. Paul's ; Paternoster Row, 612, 

— Lombard strei t, 613. 

— \iu.:i icans in, 614 

— rhe Royal Exchangi . 615 

— The Citj of; Banli of England, 616. 

— ( lirist's Hospital, 616 

— Tile Charter Housi . ' ["hi rimes," 617. 

— The smoke and dirt of, 619. 

— The Roj .i! Ai ademy, 626, 

— The Philharmonic Society, 627. 

— Seasons, The. 620, 629 

— I heatre, 1 he . Rotten Row, 630. 

— Some noble houses in, 631, 
- rhe i lubs of, 633 

— The Strand, 635 

— Book publishers, 612 
Longchamps, The German parade on, 4'J">. 
I miis I , of Bavai ia, 792. 

Lot ill , of Bavaria, 793. 

Loi is XII. Chateau of, at Maisons Laffitte, 333. 

I.mi i-. \|Y 190 

— Palace of, at Versailles, 358, 
Lowell, James Russell, 98 
Luxembi 'i ]' . Ai I \ ik, The, 153. 

— Panic, The, 29. 

— Palace, The, 494. 



M 

M \ Gah w, Mr , in Bulgaria, 672. 

— Account nf the attack on Plevna, 780. 
MacMahon, Marshal, I haracter of, 184. 

— \i Woerth; Defeat of, 1!>!>. 

— In action, 201 

— At Chalons, 205. 

— Telegram of, 241. 

— Disastei lo, 246 

■ - \iM the Republh . 846 
M \ di id, First impressions of, 64. 

— And its gloom, 92 

— Bull-fighting in, 101 

— Museum of Painting in, 111. 

— Noted tapestries in ; Public buildings of, 112 



INDEX. 



857 



Magnan, Marsha!, 35. 

Magnet, Citizen, 441*. 

" Maiden's Tower," The, 31. 

Maison aux Pilieks, 505. 

Maison de la Revolution, The, 142. 

Malesherbes Fight, The, 481. 

Mano Negra, The society of the, 125. 

Marlborough House, 562. 

Marseillaise Journal, The, 133. 

Marseilles, Wealth and resources of, 83. 

— Plague of, 1720-21, 84. 
Marx, Karl, 52. 

Matador, The (bull killer), 1<>7. 

Mathilde, Princess, and marriage of Napoleon III., 37. 

— Retreat of, at St. Gratien. 337 
M \t pas, M. de, 45. 
Maximilian, Execution of. 29. 
Mayence, Military scenes in, 186. 
Mazas Pris< in, 497 

Mazzini and the Italian war of Independence, ■">' s 

— Funeral of, 412. 

— Letter of, on the Insurrection, 512. 
Mediterranean, Journey to the, 67. 
Megy, General, at the burning of Paris, 492. 
Merimee, M., and M. Thiers, 223, 
Metropolitan Church, The (Seville), 128 
Metropolitan Tabernacle, The, 599 
Metternich, Princess de, 'M , 

— Prince de, and the Empress Eugenie, 236, 
Metz, in lSTd, 169. 

— Great battles in front of, and around, 203-213. 

— Condition of the French troops in, 205, 

— Bazaine's retreat upon, 207. 

— Road to, 209; Environs and history of, 308-310. 

— German losses outside, 311. 

— Diversions of German soldiers during the siege of, 312, 

— Within and without during the siege, 313. 

— Poisoning the wells around, 314. 

— Surrender of, 317; Events after the surrender of, :;is. 
Mexico, End of the French expedition in, 28. 
Mezquita, The mosque of tin-, 125. 

MlCHEL, General, 17U. 

" Midi " (Southern France), 82, 

Midhat Pasha, as Governor of Bulgaria, T* •-* i 

Milan, Prince, 672-3 

Mn LAIS, John, 626; In Scotland, 649 

Milli&re, Execution of, 516. 

Milton, John, and the origin of Paradise Lost, 798. 

Ministry of Finance, The burning of, 491. 

Mmi, M., 4!)7. 

Mirabeau, Speech of, 505. 

MiRSKY, Prince, 769. 

Mmi tke. Von, and the German armies, 17* 

— Journeys before the war, 182; And De Wimpffen, 253. 

— Saves his papers, 306; In Versailles, 330, 365. 
Mont Avron, 360 

Mi int Cenis Tunnel, The, 403. 
Mont Valerien, Story of, 332 

Monteneorin, Manners and customs of the, 692. 
Montenegrins, A type of the, 688, 692. 

— The Moslems, 691. 

Montenegro, History and legend of, 670-1; The army 
of, 693; Costumes in, 694; Legend of the Kapa, 
695; Peter IL, Danilo, 695; Nicholas I., 696-7; Its 
situation, 689; Its boundaries, 690; The conscript 
fathers, 700 ; The monastery of Ostrog, 700, 



MONTIJO, Mdlle. Eugenie de, .".2; Ami Napoleon [II. ,33. 
Montmartre, 426; The defense of, 182 
Motn medy, lira very of a French officer at, .>ll 
Mow i morency, The town of, 335. 
Montpensier, Duke de, 130. 
Montretout, The assault at, 368-369 
Moorish Victories over the Goths, Legend of the. 115. 
Mortlake, Historical events in, 544. 
Moselle, [ ort, 308, 
Mi iun r ^t Nich< 'I.a- . 769 
Mi NH h, The city and people of, 792. 
— The museums and statue of, 793. 
Murillo, 130. 

Mr seum OF Painting, in Strasbourg, Destruction of, 284. 
Museum of the Prado, in Madrid, The, 111. 
Music, in London, 027. 



N 

Nancy, comical incident in : Story of the capture of, 'J' 1 ! 

Napias-Piquet, and the burning of important papers, 506 

Napier, Lord, 9G. 

Nam es, The port of, 403 ; Railways in, 404. 

Nam ileon, Prim e, and Rai hel, -' ; ' s 

Napoleon, Prince Louis, as President "f the French Re- 
public, 40. 

Naii leon III. and his Court, 22; Marriage of, .'14 ; Pro- 
claimed Emperor, 4K; Futile efforts for reform, 49; 
And his ministers, 138; Speeches of, 142; Senate 
of, HO; And the King of Prussia, 151 ; Intrigue of, 
152 ; Departure for the war, 174 ; At Saarbruek, 204 ; 
Taken prisoner, 222; At Sedan, 24S . At home, 235. 
Surrender of. 250 ; I leparture from Sedan, 254; 
Journey of, through Belgium, 258; A prisoner at 
Wilhelmshohe, 258; Library of, 262; And the alli- 
ance of Italy with Prussia, 397; Policy in Italy,398; 
Espouses the canst.- of Piedmont, 399; Ami Pur, 
IX., 400; Death of, 847. 

Napoleon's Column, 527 

National Assembly, The, and the Imperialists, I ! 

N ATK in a l Guard, The, at Montretout, 370; 1 (isciplineof, 

426 : And the Communists, 426. 
National Guard Mobile, The, 171; Origin of, 227; 

After the surrender of Strasbourg, 287. 
Neuilly, Fighting on the road to, 441. 

— T hrilling tales of the destruction at, 451. 
Neutral Zone, The, 377. 

Ney, Count Edgar, 36. 
Niamtzo, The monasteries of, 746. 
Nice, ced-d to the French, '.'>'■>'■>. 
Nicholas, C.rand Duke, Character of, 754. 

— Entry into Tirnova, 760, 
Nn ih ilas I.. Prince, ,; ' ( 7 

Niel, Marshal, Reform law of, 171. 

Niomt of fires. The, 4*6. 

Noir, Victor. Assassination of, 133 

North Sea Coast. The, 528 

Northumberland. Duke of, 571. 

Notes from the diary of a French writer. 51 1-515. 



o 

Ober-Ammergau, The Passion Play In, 796. 

Old London, 520 



858 



INDEX. 



Ollivier, Emile, and the Imperialists, 24, 143 

i * ■ iration of, 106 

— 1 onversation with a political friend, 178. 

— 1 1, feal of ministry of, 220 

< >k wn / , The brothi rs, 157, 

< Imbla, Pictures in, 076 

( i.mnibi t • in Madi id, 91, 
Orders Day in Versailles, '■'<■■> 

< hi eans l.M i I , Fhe, and their English home, 549. 
( >rso\ \. Scenery in, 704; Railways in, 709 

< Ism an Pasha, at Loftscha, 765; At Plevna, 782, 
Oub I vdv of Seven Sorrows, Hospital of, 452, 
" i in Lady Of [*he Pillar," Legend of, 65. 



Pain i \ rs a m ■ Pain i ini , in Italy, 405- 

Painting, Museum of, in Madrid, 111. 

Pai vci of Justice, The burning of, 507, 

Pai w Bourbon, Description of, L42 ; Invasions of , 143. 

Palais de l'1 ndustrie, 1 17. 

Palais Royal, Heart-rending scenes around, 491. 

Palais Royal Company, The, 39 

1'ai.a i in k te, Troops iii the, 190, 

Pali i ■ General, ( lount de, Ministry of, 220, 

— Projeci of, 230. 

Palmerston, Lady, Receptions of, 632. 

Lord, at < lompiegne, 37 
Pantheon, The, Ml , 01 the Spanish kit 
Papai Nuncio, 95 

Paradol, M., in the United States, 157; Suicide of, 158. 
Paris, Exposition of 1867, I he, 23, 29 

— Journey from Madrid to, Si, 

— Palace of I ndustry in, 101. 

— During the war, 21K; Return of regiments to, 229. 

— - Preparations for the siege of, 262 , The sieges of, 263 

I'm -mii prisoners in, 265 ; The forts round, 300. 

— Terms of the armistice, 275. 

I »e1 ills ' if the pr< paration for the defensi i if, 301 

— Journey around, during the siege, 332 

— Bombardment of, 359 ; End of the siege of, 375 

— Destruction of public institutions in, 361 

P .il reminiscences oi the cli ise of the siegi of, 37C. 

— England's aid to, after (he siege, 377. 

— Triumphal entry into, 125 

— Outbreak of the Commune, 126 

— Second bombardnienl of, 443. 

— Entry of regulai troops into, 476 ; Execul sin, 190 

— The burning of, 190; The seven days fight in, 499-511 

— Communist pr ssion in, 500. 

— The destruction in, during the Commune, 515 

— And London compared, 519-526 

— Of to-day, 520 ; In a fog, 524; Drinking customs in, 525 

— The Passion Play in, 797 

— The Pantheon, the entombment of Victor Hugo in, 839. 

1 lie army of, at the obsequies of Victor Hugo, 841. 
Paris Journals during the Commune, " Paris Free," 

" * ommune," 163 ; " Estafette," " < rrelot," " Pere 

Dm In !i> ," 4i;i 
Parking! on, sir John, 581. 
Parliameni Building, The, 572-576. 
Parnell, Mr., in the House of Commons, 586. 

— In Ireland, 652; Imprisonment of, 653 
Passion Play, 'I he, ai < Iber- immergau, 798-811. 

j 0Sl p h Mail r, 800, 80*2; facob Hett, 801. 



Passii ■'. Play, Repri sentation of : — 

Pan I —The fall of man, 799; Christ in the Temple, 
800; the Sanhedrim scene, 802, 805; the Lord's 
Supper, 804; the betrayal, 805 ; the scene in Geth- 
semane , 806 
Part II.— The scene before Anna-., 807; Petei di 
iiial, 808 ; Suicide of J udas, 808 ; Christ be fore 
Pilate, 809; the bearing of the Cross to Go! 
and the Crucifixion, 810. 

Pavia, i ieneral, 79, 

Peabody, George, in London, 532 

Pi so Pavlovic and Ljubibratic, 684 

l'i msio! in I ngland, Ancient and hereditary, 566-568 

Pe-re Jean, his opinion of Napoleon III ,295. 
The story of, 295, 

PfeRE la Chaise, < Cemetery of, 496; Massacre in, 508. 

Perez, Alouzo, I teath of, 12] 

Pest, S15 

Petei II, \\'X> 

Peter's Pence, 422. 

Pe i ion, Mayoi , of Paris, 135. 

Petit Ji ii r \ i i if P \ ris, 139 

Pe i ri it i i-i s, The, 487. 

I ': u . |. lurney into the, 188 

Philip II., the terrible, 63 

Pli li RES OF 111! Ci IMMUNE, 444. 

— Old Masters, The, 111-112 
Pie] imi in i , The Austrians in, 399 
Pietri, Imperial Prefect of Police, 226 

Pius IX., Sketch of his life ; Ancestors of, 407, 

And Victor Emmanuel, 108-411 

Pi m ro, 102, 

Place Stanisi k\ --, Scenes in the, 290 

— D'ArMES, The parades on the. 329 

— Vendome, FumM.uI.: of the, 130- Regulars in the, 487. 
- in la Bastille, 499 

— De la Concorde, Exciting scenes on the, 229; Al- 

tai k on the, 480. 

— De l'Opera, The barricade on the, 488 

— De la Ri ".'■■ i in, Scenes on the, 138 

— Du * A.RRI 'i -l i , 140. 
Pi A/A iu- TOROS, The, 102 

'■ Plebi - i ; i , The," 46. 

Plevna, and its influence on the Russian campaign, 77!'. 

— The fall of, 783. 

Pi i mi iuth, The forts at, 528 
Poets, Homes and haunts of, 642. 
Pomeranians, The, at the siege of Metz, 316 

PO .11 FICAL Z< IUAVES, The, 40l 

I ■ i ,: Twickenham, 549. 

Popes, The, and the Vatican, 417. 

Portugal and the result of the Con ■■ ■ l ongress, *4l' 

Pouyer-Quertier, M., and Bismarck, 269, 

pRA do M useum, The, 112. 

Prim, General, and Marshal Serrano 57 

— Suppresses telegrams, 66; Death of, 94 

— And Bismart k, 165. 

Prince Consi ir i at Windsor, 554. 

— i Ieorge of Saxony, 364 

— Imperial, Short careei and death of, 849. 

— Of Wales, The title of, 562 

Princes oi Wales, The, since Edward II , 562 
Printing Press of the " Times," The, 617, 
Provencal Lam. hale, Tin-, 84, 

Prussia, The Crown Prince of, at Si Cloud, 305 ; In Ver- 
sailles, 330. 



INDEX. 



859 



Prussian Soldier in 1870, Uniform of, 1*7 
— Spy, Capture of, 221. 
Puerta dei- Sol, The, '■*-. 

PUTNEY, Aquatic spurts in, 540 ; Historical events in, Ml 
Pyat, Felix, 303, 



Q 



Quaint Old Spanish City, A, G5. 
Queen of the Adriatic, The, 100 
Queue-en-Brie, Effect of the wai in, 350 
Quirinal Palace, The, 414. 
Qi i .i i, Edgar, at Belleville, ITt 
— Speech at the Bordeaux Assembly, 392. 



i; 



Race for the Rhine, The. 182 
Rachel and Prince Napoleon, 3« 
Radetzky, General, 7">7. 

l ' \ i and the C munists, 437 

Red Republic, The, 428 

Regiment of the " Guides," The, lftl 

Regnault, Death of, 371. 

Regnier and Bazaine, 319 

Reign of Terror, The, 45-46, 

Rennie, Sir John, 536. 

Republic in Europe, Advance o[ the, 849 

Republicanism in Europe, 845; In Spain, !>* 

Revolution, The, of 1851, 44-4S 

Reynolds, sir Joshua, ">4s. 

Rezonville, Battle at, 211. 

Rhine, The, Military scenes on, 186; Med of, 196 

RrcHMMND, The " Star and Garter" lintel; Gladstone at, 

H-H; ; Its romance, ">4t> ; Louis Philippe at, 548; 

Hill, r»47; Lodge, 547; Theatre, 548. 
Rigault, Raoul, Project * « f . 47."; Death of, 515 
Riviera, Francis de la, 70, 
Rochefort, Henri, and the " Figaro," 50. 

— Elected deputy, 132; Meetings uf, lf>K. 

— And his yellow gloves, 146. 

— Arrest of, 162 ; Release from prison, 240. 

— Resignation of, .';l'7 ; Sentence and escape of, 517. 
Rome, Occupation of, by the Italians, 107 

— Nobility of, and the Vatican, 4lll 
Romero de Ronda, Francisco, 102. 
Rose Culture in Bulgaria, 7~:> 
Rossel, sketch of his career, 456. 

— Characterization of the Commune of, 513. 

Roth an, M , on Prince Bismarck, 177 ; And the Duke de 
( iramont, 179 ; Interview with Marshal Le Bceuf , 180, 
Rouher, M , " Vice-Emperor," 50; As a speaker, 143. 

— Extracts from speech of, 152, 
Roumania, A khan in; The clogs of, 716. 

— Primitive life of the villagers, 717 ; Education in, 719. 

— French influence in, 721, 7LT> ; Jews in, 721, 

— The Dirnbovitza, ~~- ; Crime in, 7'J4. 

— The press in, 7_'!'. 

— The Garden of Herestreu ; Gypsy music in, 730 

— Climate of, 732 

— Funeral in ; Sketch of the history of, 734. 

— The Turkish in; Queen Elizabeth, 736 

— King Charles, 7:'.r.-7o7. 

— Cotroceni ; Tirgoviste ; Mirzea, 7^7 



Roum wia, The Language of, 739 ; Greeks in, 740, 

— Agriculture in ; Impressions of Jassv, 741. 

— Bessarabia, 743; Ploiesci and t ralatz, 744. 

— The towns of, 74.". ; The monasteries of, 74ti. 

— And the treaty of San Stefano, 786. 

— Streets and street types in, 724. 

— Army and navy of, 7-.V720 ; Churches of, 727-728. 
Roumaniai l hi ri M, I lir, "27; Houses, 733. 
Roumanians, 779; Superstitions of, 722 ; The early, 730. 
Rot ai. Academy, The, 626. 

— Wedding, in Spain, 93, 

Ki B de i a Paix, The rebels in 1 1 > , 430 

— Di la Sourdiere, Meetings in the, 147. 

— Rait, L'he E splosii m on the, 47;: 

— Royale, The Burning of the, 480. 

— St. J \o,iri,-,, [nvasion of, 166. 
Ki ssia, Nihilism in, 818 

— The Emperor of, in the field, 7.">< r >. 

— Emperor of, in the Kazan Cathedral, 783, 
Russian Army, The manners of the officers of, 753. 

— Soldiers, on the march, 756 . v. ossack . 758-759 
Russian ; in Set \ ia, 673 

— The, in Bulgaria; The singing troops, 749 
Russo-Tukkish War, Sistova, 758 ; Rustchuk, 765 ; 

Prince Tserteleff, 7G9 ; The Balkans, 7«;s ; Shipka 
Pass, 769; The massacre in Eski Zaghra, 774. At 
Selvi, 77."); The horrors of Plevna, 770; Shipka 
Pass, Mutilation of the Russian wounded in, 771 ; 
Statistics of the forces in, 782; England intervenes, 
784 
Rustchuk, The Turks in, 765. 



s 

SaarbrUck Affair, The, 204. 

Sacristan of Notre Dame, The, and the Communists, 

44. r >. 
SADOWA, Victory of Prussians at, 152. 
Sainte Adresse, The heights of, 528. 
St, Catherine's Doi ks, 538. 
Si i loud, Burning of the palace of , 305 

Journey through the park at, 379 

Scenes in, after the war, 379; The palace at, 380 

Sainte-Croix, Church of, ;;:'._' 

St. Cyk, The library of, 371 

St. Denis, The bombardment of, 373; Prussians in, 431, 

St. Eugenie'^ I*a\ , 37 

Saint Gkatien, Visit to, 337, 

St. Hilairb, M. BartheJemy, 146 

St. James's Palace, Historj of, 558. 

St. Paul's, and its ni ighborhood, 612. 

St. Privat, Battle at, 212, 

St. Stephen's Cathedrai (Metz), 309. 

St. Thomas Aquinas, 423. 

St. Vicente, 80 

Salisbury, Lord, ."'''-'; Journey to Constantinople, 673 

Salvation Army, The, t',7* 

Samuel, Captain, Telegram of, 182. 

San Juan, Church of, 76 

San Juan de ins Reyes, Church of, 122. 

San Sebastian, Biarritz to, 59 

San Stefano, Signing of the treaty of, 785. 

Sandringham 

Santiago Chapel, 121 

Saragossa, Quaint scenes in, 64; Rebellion in, 6G. 



860 



INDEX. 



Sarcev, M. F., on the retreat from Chatillon, 266. 
Sartrouville, Scenes in, 334. 

.■I teider, M . .u i! the triki ■■ . 171. 

— In the Corps Legislatif, 219; Narrow escape of , 232. 
Scotland, Agriculture in ; Cities in, '14;;. 

— rhe old '."I'm cathedral, G44; St. Mary's cathedral, 

645; Holyrood Vbbi ) , 646 

— The Highlands, 648. 

— At Ardrishaig, 649; At Stirling, 650 

— Am! Ireland, 650 
So n i . Sir Walti i . 649 

Second Empire, The, in Paris, in 1867, 21 ; Decline of, 
24 . i Irigin of, 40 . Historj of, 18; Senate of, 148; 
Fall of, 224 
■:■ i ., Phe retreat to, 243 ; Capitulation of, 249. 
r I . i in-, of the stu render of, 255 
Seafield, Earl of, 571. 
Sefton, Earl oi . 57 1 
,ii. I lir gun-boats on, 447. 
., Marshal, 57. 
Servia and «i ^ rulers, 671 . Turkish atrocities in, n'7J 
Servian Smuggi ers, 706 
Servi ans mii! Bulgai ians, 708, 
Seville. Past and present, 127, 128. 
Shakespeare House, The ; Festival, in 1S79, 639, 
Sheffield, Lord, Earl of Mulgrave, 542 
Sheridan, < leneral, in Paris, 430. 
Simni i za, Scenes in, 748. 
Simon, Jules, Extract from speei !i of, 143 

I '.M iamentai y reputation of, 1 16 
Sims, < leorge, 620 
Sind, I hristian, 194, 
Si Mt Cha pei . The, 417. 
Sistova,750; General Dragimirofi at, 758. 
9. i-.' iBi i i s- 1 . rhe eldei , 754. 

— General, .it Plevna, 781 . I leath of, 848. 
Sla\ .1 he, 763, 790 

Socialism in France, Appearance of, 53; In Germany, 818. 

Si ><ii- i v • if mi M \ ■■' i N RGRA, 125. 

Soudan and the Soudanese, 824. 

Spain, The Revolution in, 56; The Republic in, 57 ; Roy- 
al wedding in, 93; Present condition of, 97 ; National 
sport of, 102 , Republicanism in, 98, 846. 

Spa nish Bishop, A. 87, 

— Politics since 1869, 78; Cloak, The, 113; Beggars, 116, 
Speyer, Crown Prince of Prussia at, 188 

.- pi ri .i i in, Mr., in Ins 1 ab u nai le, 598 

Stafford Hi -use . 631 

■■■ i am i- \ , II M . "n the < ongo l 'ongress, 842 

s i einmetz, i leneral, 189; Recalled from active service, 310 

Strand, The, a historii avenue, 635 

STRASEi iUKG, in 1870, 170. 

— Preparations for an assault upon, 278. 

— Bombardment of; Cathedral, Famous towei of; As 

•i military fort, 280. 

— As built by Vauban, 1682-85,281 : Publi. Library, 284 

— Expulsion of the Germans from, 282; [n flames, 283. 

— Bishop of, and the i hief of the Prussian staff, 285 

— Perilous journey of the Prefect of; Surrender of, 287. 

— Journey through, after the bombardment, 289 

— Mayor of, approai hing death of, :'.:'l ; Death of, 395 
S i ree i Fir.HTiNG, m Spain, 71 ; As a s< ience, 478. 
Stewart, Colonel, in Egypt, 828, 832 

' General Herbert, 832. 

ITFi IR I i-i IN- VVON, 639 

St E2 ( anal, The, 821 . 



Suleiman Pacha and Radetzky, 770. 

At Eski Zaghra, 77:'., 765. 

Defeat of, 784 

Si i ian of Turkey , The, in Paris, 26. 

Si mdav, in I .i udon and Pai is, 522. 

Sutherland, Duke of, 571 ; At Stafford House, 631. 



Tadema, Alma, 626, 

! ral Von der, at Sedan, 257. 

Ia pes i ries . Noted, 112. 

I a i 1 1 rsa i i '-, 623 

Temple Neuf, The, Destruction of, 284, 

I i i riss, Mi , 630 
Terry, Ellen, 629, 

l . » :i . The, from Woolwich Arsenal to Wii dsor Castle, 
533-551 . \ grand sight on, 533 

— Embankment, The, 539. 
Tula i re, The origin of, 7!>7. 
Thea i re F i a:.-, ai , 1 he, 39. 

Tufa i re of the Passion Play, I he, 796 

— Of the Porte St Martin, Burning of, 500, 
Thiers, Louis Adolphe, in the * !orps Legistalif, 143. 

— And Ins attitude towards the Second Empire, 114. 

— And M. Rouher, 152 

— Protest of, 168. 

— Joins the Committee of I tefense, 221. 

— And M. Jerome I >.i\ id, 222. 

— Declines to hi ad the govt n ut. 223; Projei t of, 230. 

— Ami iIk' Governmenl oi National I tefense, 325. 

— [nterview with Bismarck, 325 ; At Versailles, 327, 

— And the Bordeaux Assembly, 388. 

— Elet ted deputy and forms a t abinet, 389 

— Speech againsl the Bonapartists, 393 

— Spei i li on the Roman question, 397, 

— And the ' 'ommunists, 432. 

— Vigorous action of, .it Versailles, 434. 

— Mansion of, unroofed, 465, 

— In Pans during the conflagration, 494, 

i oncess s of, 512; Funeral of, 134, *47. 

I'mii rs, Madame, in the loge de la Pre\sidence, 390. 
Thomas. < leni ral, Assassination of, 428 
Tirnova, Triumphal entry of tin.- Russians into, 759, 

— 1 >es< ription oi a house in, 761 

Ti ibai i i i, Use of, in the Russian and Prussian armies, 757. 
To< i '■, The, in Paris, 176 
Todleben, General, outside Plevna, 782. 
I .'i edo, Visit to the city of, 113. 

— The military school of, 117 . Cathedral of, 120. 
Tortosa, 87, 

Tkafai i . w: Si. 'i \i.f. 601. 
I i ... a i 'i i o, I he battel ies of, 447. 
Tro< m , i General, preparing for tlie siege of fans, 263. 

— At ( !hampigny, 345. 
TRAJAN, The footprints of, Tn4. 
Trojan, ( lonvenl of, 771. 
Troppmann, Execution of, 159 
Trouville, 528, 

Tsettinje\ I he village of, 698; The Turk's rower, 699. 

Tin eries, Procession to the, 234, 

Turkey, Czarino fort, 680; And the Montenegrins, 690 

— Ada-Kale* fort, 702 



INDEX. 



861 



Turkish Empire of to-day, The, 790 ; Time, 767. 
Twickenham, Walpole at; Due d' Aumale at, 548. 
— Historical event in ; Louis Philippe at, 549. 



u 

UHRICH, General, in Strasbourg, 280. 
United Stated, Castelar and the, Q$. 
University Boat-race, The, 541. 
Unredeemed Italy, 4_'4. 



v 

Vacherot, M . 394, 
Vaisset, Execution of, 507. 
Valencia, Journey to, 67. 

— Bombardment of, t'-s ; The nine days' fight in, 72-76. 

— The Passion Plaj in, 80 

— Market-place of, ss ; Cathedral, 89 
Valencian Credit Institution .is a fortress, 70. 

— Republicans, Costume of, 70. 
Vai i es, M. Jules, Statement of, 492 
Vatican, Palace and Museums of the, 41tl. 

— The Pope at the, 416; The Loggie, 417. 

— And the Quirinal . Programme of the, 423. 
Velasquez, [sidoro,93; Pictures of , 111. 
Vendome Column, The, Description and fall of, 168 
Venice, Industrial arts in, 405, 

Vermay, Jehan i ornelius, 112. 
Vermorel and the Communists, 437, 
Versaillais and the Revolutionists in Paris, 479. 
Versailles, Capitulation of, 268, 

— Journey from E pei nay to, 294. 

— The Prussians in, 298 

— Panics in, during the siege of Paris, 306, 370, 

— Hotel des Reservoirs, :i;:l 

— Rue Neuve, 331 

— Royal interview in, 352; Conspiracy in, 353. 

— Christmas in, 354 ; Scenes on the canal in, 355. 

— New Year's Day at head-quarters, ;.:,">7 

— Scene in the palace at, 359 

— The Coronation of King William 

— The Royalists in, 444 

— Troops, The, and the insurgents, 440. 
\ i uvius, 21. 
"Vice-Emperor/' M. Rouher, 50 

Vn roR Emmanuel, King, entry in Rome, 398. 
At the Quirinal, 410. 

— — Death, and personal traits of, 412 

Effect of Journeys to Vienna and Berlin, 412, 

— — Sons of, 414; And the Archbishop Pecci, 415 
Vn roRiA, Queen, Private life of, 554. 

■ — Income of, 559; Landed property of, 560. 

— ( Jrandchildren of, 565 ; Anniversary of birth of, 622. 

— Household expenses of, 567 ; In Scotland, 650 

Vu MA, The financial crash in; The famous Ring, 812. 

— The opera in, 815, 

\ ii i ionese, The, and the invaders, 385. 
Villi- d'Avray, in Peace and War, 379. 



VlLLEMESSANT, M. dc, 139 

Villiers, Desperate fighting at, 342. 

— And vicinity after the battle, 346, 

Vinoy, General, attack on the Chateau d'Eau, 501, 507 

— Before Pere la Chaise, 508, 
Volcanic Shimmer, The, 21 



w 

Wagner, and King Louis 1 1 , 794 
Wai i tCHiAN Soldier, The, 724 
War Ph m res, 378-381, 479-481, 510. 
Warwickshire, Rural beauty in, 639, 
WASHBURNE, Mr. in Paris, 111 

— Mr. and Archbishop I tarboy, 496, 
Wellington, Duke of, 612, 
Werder, * General Von, Protest of, 281. 
West India Docks, The, 537. 
Westminster Hall, 574, 

— Palace, 572, 574 ; The Clock Tower, 574 
Whitman. Walt , Quotation from, 490 
Wickede, Von, on the surrender of Sedan, 255. 
Wilhelm, Prince Friedrich, at the Passion Play, 796. 
WilhelmshShe, Napoleon III at, 258 

William, of Prussia, Ring, in Paris during the Exposi- 
tion of 1867, 28. 

— On the battle-field, 212; Narrow escape of, 213. 

— Journey across the battle-field, 257 ; In Versailles, 330. 

— Delegation to, 352, 

— < rowned Emperor of Germany, H ! 

— Emperor of Germany, 816 

Wilson, Professor, on the Lake Country. 642. 
Wimbi edon Camp, 542 
Windsor, Town and Castle of, 550, 

— Edward HI. at, 551; Memorials of, 552. 

— Queen Victoria at, 552; St. George's chapel. 554 

— The Audience Chamber ; Treasures of ; Park, 555. 
Weissenburg, during the war, Echoes from, 192. 

— The Crown Prince at, 197 ; Prisoners of war in, 321 
Woerth during the Franco-German war, 198. 

— The horrors of the retreat from, 201 
Wolsey, Cardinal, at Hampton Court, "<^. 
Wolseley, Lord, at Tel-el-Kebir, 822. 

— And the Gordon relief expedition. 830 

— Return to England. 834 

Women, Execution of, 488; < >f the Commune, The, 460 ; 

Of Loftscha, The-, 762; < tf Montenegro, 693 
Wooj wii h Arsenai . 533, 536; Town, Dockyard, 536 
Wren, Sir Christopher. 612 
Wrobleski, General, Surrender of, 500 



Yacht Clubs in England, 634. 
YONINE, Alexandre, 697 



7. 

Zebehr, and General Gordon, 827. 



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